


our love is god.

by m4kiroll



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1980s, Alternate Universe - Non-Despair (Dangan Ronpa), Based on Heathers, Bulimia, F/F, F/M, Gun Violence, Homophobic Language, Pre-Game Momota Kaito, Suicide Attempt, Ungraphic and Implied Non-con, also sorry to rantaro and hiro stans i ran out of ideas for who to put, half of these characters are in the first chapter and are never seen or heard of again, homophobic language and bulimia and non-con are brief, if these tags aren't posted in the right order i will tear my hair out, if this has been done before i WILL cry, if you're fine with heathers you'll probably be fine with this, leon kaz hiro and rantaro are ooc solidarity, maki's pregame outfit is directly from veronica sawyer's closet?? hello???, not pre-game though kaito's just a dick, sorry for being a danganronpa stan and a theatre nerd on main, sorry to leon and kaz stans i love them but i didn't know who else to put, the suicide attempt is also brief but the topic of suicide is present throughout the entire thing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:47:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 40,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28083414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/m4kiroll/pseuds/m4kiroll
Summary: "dear diary, my teen-angst bullshit now has a body count."miu iruma, kirumi tojo, kaede akamatsu… and, dreadfully, maki harukawa herself. together, they make up the most intimidatingly powerful clique at hope’s peak academy; most people would die to get into it.for maki, she would kill to get out of it.it seems that kaito momota, the newest student, has come to answer her prayers. he has a way with women, a way with words, and a very special way with a gun."... are we going to prom or to hell?"
Relationships: Chabashira Tenko/Yumeno Himiko, Harukawa Maki/Momota Kaito, Iruma Miu/K1-B0 (one-sided), Iruma Miu/K1-B0 (past), Minor or Background Relationship(s), mentioned pairings that aren’t worth tagging
Comments: 25
Kudos: 44





	1. dear diary...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> another friday, another lunchtime poll, another day of maki's so-called friends' bitching... and another day of maki wishing she hadn't sold her soul to the devil herself, miu iruma, helping to forge letters to students who just wanted affection and attention, only to be served an undeserving steaming bowl of humiliation by miu and her crew of she-devils. however, even as the day trudges on with little to no significance, maki's world is unknowingly changed as soon as her eyes meet another unfamiliar pair of lavender eyes across the room...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> !!!!!!!! please be sure to double-check the tags before reading! i'll try my best to warn you at the beginning of a chapter what will happen, but the heathers movie and musical relies heavily on the topic of suicide (despite most of the so-called suicides being murders), so if suicide in particular is triggering to you, please click away. all the other things like the homophobic language are very brief, but i think a warning is still needed for them.
> 
> anyway — i love this movie and the musical so much and the other day i was going through the pre-game sprites and i noticed maki's pre-game outfit is straight from veronica sawyer's wardrobe so here we are!! i do intend to finish this while i prep for my other fic since all the arcs and plot points are pre-determined for this au, so it's really just practice. hopefully weekly updates?? but don't hold me to that.
> 
> if you're here because you're starved of kaimaki, or love heathers, or even just have nothing else to do with your time, i am very happy that you are here and i hope that by the end i haven't wasted your time too much!!
> 
> sorry this chapter is SO long, the next one is much shorter i promise
> 
> **TW FOR CHAPTER ONE: homophobic language, implied bulimia, implied gun violence. each very brief.**

_Dear diary,  
Miu told me that she teaches people real life — she said, "Real life sucks losers dry. If you wanna fuck with the eagles, you have to learn to fly."  
I said, "So, you teach people how to spread their wings and fly?"   
She said, "Yes."   
I said, "...You're beautiful."_

A swift jab to the side distracts Maki Harukawa from finishing her entry, her pen instead making an ugly scrawl across the notebook that took up three inches of the page. Looking up from where she sat, with her diary on the beginning steps of a (rather dusty) staircase, Maki forcefully yanked the monocle that sat above her right eye down with a huff, nothing short of irritated by the kick from her assailant. She’s met with a set of lavender eyes that she’s all too familiar with — lavender eyes that would look much brighter had they not been fitted with yellow, which was adorned all over her. Kaede Akamatsu stared right back, her stare not holding the amount of malice or hostility Maki’s own red eyes carried. 

"God, come _on,_ Maki!" Kaede exclaimed, not offering Maki an explanation for the knee kick she was given. There was no purpose with being short with the blonde, Maki decided — Kaede would have called her with the phone that never left her side if she herself needed her, meaning that the kick sent to her side was on someone else’s behalf — and judging by the slight dread that sunk in her stomach, Maki had a good idea. 

“What’s your damage, Akamatsu?” Maki can’t keep the annoyance out of her tone, even resorting back to using her surname — which was a shame, as she had begun to use her first name four shopping trips ago.

“Don’t blame me, blame Miu!” Kaede said with a small shake of her head. “She told me to haul your ass to the caf, pronto,” She added and, upon seeing Maki’s unconvinced face, which hadn’t moved a muscle from annoyed, she looked up to her peer clad in green that, quite frankly, clashed badly with her pale green hair. With a nod to the other tall and silent girl, Kaede finishes, “Back me up, Kirumi.”

With a blink of surprise — sometimes she got too wrapped up in her books, as she even had her favorite tale, _The Spider's Thread,_ in her arms right then — Kirumi averts her gaze from the yellow-claddened girl and peers down to Maki. “Yeah, she really wants to talk to you…” She agrees in her usual timid tone.

Sighing, Maki slammed her journal shut, gathering her things carelessly, already brushing the dust from the stairs clean off her skirt — the sooner Miu was confronted with whatever was so urgent, the sooner Maki could return to her familiar (normally secluded) stairwell.

“Okay, alright, I’m going… Jesus Christ…” Maki trailed off as she stalked off to the cafeteria in tow of Kaede and Kirumi. 

Upon entering the cafeteria, Miu Iruma was instantly spotted by her requested audience. Even if her head-full of long, wavy strawberry blonde hair was taken out of the equation, her custom-made blazer, tights, and black Mary-Janes, along with her red shorts and matching red scrunchie made her stick out like a sore thumb amongst the rather colorless wardrobe that belonged to the sea of peers surrounding her. As if sensing their presence — _like how a shark sniffs out blood,_ Maki duly noted to herself, being sure to add the thought to her diary entry later — Miu turned around from the table she was currently hovering over, and offered the trio of girls a catty smile that they had seen dozens of times before.

“Hello, Miu,” Maki greets passively, biting the inside of her cheek to keep herself from calling the other by her last name. The previous time she had made that mistake, Miu had given her a once-over with a frown, later revoking her invitation to one of her college friends’ parties and instead giving it to Kirumi. It was no secret that most of the time, Tojo got the short-end of the stick when it came to Iruma’s patience, so it was jarring, to say the least. Despite not having a shred of genuine enjoyment for her supposed best friend, Maki still felt the need to appease her, even if it meant calling her by her first name despite her having no attachment to her. As long as Miu tolerated her, Maki would be immune to the pestering of other students at the school. Miu had that effect on people; she had nearly everyone wrapped around her perfectly manicured fingers at any moment of the day, and still had the ability to effortlessly outshine the rest in anything and everything.

“Maki, finally,” Miu complained, though her snide grin didn’t deter for a moment. Malice simmered in her eyes, lingering for as long as needed for the trio to understand she had something planned. 

(She always did.)

“Listen, I got some notes of Leon Kuwata’s. I need you to use them to forge a hot and horny yet realistically subtle note in his handwriting to Shit-ogane, and we’ll slip it onto her lunch tray….” 

“Shit, Iruma, I have nothing against Shirogane-san,” Maki tilted her head to the left with an exasperated shake of her head, suppressing a groan. She was well-aware that her forgery skills were the thing that had given her a ticket to the clique in the first place, but more often than not, their ideas for what to _do_ with her hand brought more dread than any glee.

Miu’s vindictive smile fell from her eyes, and her lips faltered from her mischievous smile to a thin line of annoyance at the disagreement and use of her last name. 

“Well, you don’t have anything _for_ her, either. C’mon, it’ll be very. The note’ll give her shower-nozzle masturbation material for weeks!” The last part pulls a sadistic smirk in anticipation from the edges of Miu’s perfectly glossed lips, sending the smallest of shivers down Maki’s spine. 

“I’ll think about it,” Maki compromised, hoping Miu would accept and end up forgetting all about the note later.

Miu’s eyes narrow; either this was never a good enough outcome in the first place, or she saw right through her attempt — and knowing Miu, it could be either or. “Don’t think.” 

Without waiting for a response, Miu’s eyes darted across the room before falling on her chosen victim: Tsumugi Shirogane. The bluenette currently had her face shoved in a manga Maki didn’t recognize as she waited in the lunch line, and Maki could tell from afar that her glasses were nearly sliding off of the bridge of her nose. With an impatient clearance of her throat, a lunch lady startles Shirogane from her preoccupied position, nearly making her drop her book into her bowl of soup in surprise. Shirogane wasn’t exactly the weirdest type of student a highschool could have, per se, but at an expensive private academy like Hope’s Peak, a cosplayer with an unhealthy love for anime and manga was the best target for humiliation available. Maki hadn’t spoken to her much, if at all, but she seemed nice enough — the highschool hierarchy just wasn’t built in her favor. 

Iruma turned back to the others — the sight of Shirogane fumbling to catch her manga book before it fell in her bowl of soup must have brought her mood back up, as her unsettling Cheshire Cat smile was back. “Maki’s gonna need something to write on — Kirumi, bend over.”

Albeit reluctantly, Tojo bent over at a nearly perfect angle (her heels prevented her from going a full 90° angle), and Miu offered the red clipboard in her hand with the stolen notes, a pad of paper and a pen, to Maki, who accepted it with a sigh — there was no use in arguing with Iruma now. Referencing the notes handed to her, Maki put pen to paper as she began to forge the “hot and horny” note to Shirogane. Miu dramatically read aloud the note she envisioned, pausing every few sentences for Maki to finish the previous parts.

“Dear Shirogane-san, you’re so sweet…” Miu began, eyes wide as her familiar excitement for the eventual sadism began to bubble in her features.

* * *

“I'm telling you, man,” Leon Kuwata started with a smug smirk, eyes bouncing from the ensemble forging a letter with the (unbeknownst to him) stolen notes of his own to the pink-haired student he was talking to, who was adorning a similar letterman jacket to his own. “It would be so righteous to be in a Maki Harukawa-Miu Iruma sandwich —”

“Oh, hell yes!” the other, Kazuichi Souda, agreed with eyes that glowed at the thought. “I wanna get one of ‘em and put her on my Johnson, and just start spinning her around like a goddamn pinwheel!” 

Their loud laughs startle those around them, though everyone quickly reels their surprise from the sudden noise back in — it was to be expected of the dimwit football players, after all.

Maki had now finished the note, and tore it off with the original notes in between her teeth — she knew Miu didn’t intend to return them, anyway. Kirumi rose once again, her back making a small _snap!_ as it went back into place. Handing the note to Miu, the hawk-like girl gave the note a glance-over, nodding at the forged handwriting. Finally, the note was handed to Kaede, who paid no mind to the others — her gaze was set on her prey in an almost callous glower. Without a spare look to Maki or Kirumi, Kaede gave the slightest nod to Miu, before venturing out in the sea of hungry students, navigating her way past strewn out bags and pulled out chairs to the slow-moving victim herself, who was departing from the lunch line after paying for her lunch. Her tray was balanced in one arm, and her manga was held in her left hand; Tsumugi Shirogane had learned the ways of navigating without peeling her eyes away from a manga for a moment nearly a decade ago. Slipping her own arm underneath Shirogane’s, Maki watched as Kaede placed the neatly folded note in between the bowl of soup and saltine crackers on Tsumugi’s tray.

Undetected by Shirogane, Kaede retracted her arm and turned on her heel, already making her way back to the group. If she felt any guilt for her actions — though Maki was beginning to conclude feelings of sympathy and guilt were unfeelable amongst the people she surrounded herself with — she didn’t show it, and that factoid became more apparent when she glowed at Iruma’s nod at her. Miu licked her lips quickly in anticipation before turning on her own heel and sauntered toward their usual lunch table with the trio dressed in green, yellow, and blue following suit.

A familiar " _HOPE'S PEAK ACADEMY FEEDS THE WORLD!_ " poster caught Maki’s eye as they made their way to their table. Stationed underneath it was Keebo Idabashi and Gonta Gokuhara, the former of the two shouting lines he had shouted many times before. 

Keebo was all-around passionate as a humanitarian despite his deep love for robotics and was infamous for turning down dates and hangouts to instead organize a charity event. It may have made him popular amongst the old women at the church who had an unlimited amount of hard candies at their disposal, but not amongst his peers. _A real gentleman,_ Miu had called him, back when they dated in the eighth grade before they broke up — though Maki can’t tell if it’s her imagination or not when she catches Iruma glancing at him for too long.

Gonta helped because he was, well, _Gonta,_ the boy who believed in everyone, no matter how vile the people were. His delusionally optimistic view of life probably made him genuinely believe that Miu Iruma, Kirumi Tojo, and Kaede Akamatsu were saints sent down to Earth to aid humanity in their “righteousness.” 

“Hope’s Peak feeds the world! Come on, people!” Keebo was currently preaching to the disinterested and rowdy group of students in the cafeteria. “Let's give that left-over lunch money to people who don't have lunches! Those tater-tots you throw away are a delicacy in Africa, you know, they’re practically Thanksgiving dinner… come on, let’s go!” Next to him, Gonta waved enthusiastically at passing students, drawing them into dropping their spare lunch money in a glass jar with the words " _FEED THE WORLD!_ " scrawled messily on a sticky note attached to the jar — ironically, probably attracting more students than Keebo’s shouts were.

“God, aren’t they fed yet?” Kaede bitches as the quartet settle into their seats. “I mean, do they even have Thanksgiving in Africa?”

“Oh, sure,” Maki agreed in her usual stony voice. “Pilgrims, Indians, tater-tots… it’s a real party continent,” She droned on with sarcasm dripping in her voice. Kaede flushed a light pink (that would suit her much better than the tacky yellow she was wearing, Maki noted to herself yet again for what felt like the millionth time she had had the thought) at the blatant ridicule in her comment, and chose to say nothing.

“Anyway,” Miu announced, patting her clipboard with her left hand to draw more attention to her announcement. “Harukawa, guess what today is.” By the use of her last name, Maki knew it wasn’t a request. 

Maki groans, allowing herself to make a face; she knew exactly what today was. “Lunchtime poll? Seriously? So, what’s the question?”

Kirumi, seeing a chance to join the conversation, cuts in with the same question. Her eyes are pulled away from one of her books and are brought to Miu’s with interest, “Yeah, so what’s the question, Miu?” 

Miu’s boastful grin melted to an exasperated smaller smile at the question. She wasn’t exactly pissed, per se, but the question seemed ridiculous in her own mind, and the opportunity to scope out Kirumi’s pride always kept her barbarously upbeat. With her eyes narrowed, Miu jumps to ridicule Kirumi, “God damn, Tojo, you were with me in Study Hall when I thought of it!”

Embarrassed, Kirumi averts her gaze from Miu’s intense one, picking at her food, “I forgot,” she mumbled, and either Miu didn’t hear her or decided not to egg her on further. 

“Such a pillowcase…” Miu shook her head in amusement, her small smile at Kirumi’s expense growing on her face. Thankfully — for Kirumi’s dignity or Maki’s distaste for second-hand embarrassment, Maki couldn’t identify — that seemed to be the end of it, as Miu stood up and motioned for Maki to follow suit. 

“This wouldn’t be that bizarro thing you were babbling about over the phone last night, would it?” Maki asked, following her, her tone as flat as ever. She just wanted to fill in the silence before Iruma had the chance to bitch about some other gullible student in the time it took for them to reach the first lunchtime poll stop. 

During Iruma’s ever-so-cherished lunchtime polls, she would have either Kaede, Kirumi or, on instances like today, Maki herself assisted her as she went about the cafeteria to the other “tolerable” cliques in school to ask an arbitrary question that was chosen without rhyme or reason. Miu prided herself in choosing the most ridiculous question she could think of — she had nearly gotten expelled after the " _would you fuck your clone?_ " question, though….

“Of course it is,” Miu confirms with a snort. “I told Gonta if he gave me another entomology question, I’d spew burrito chunks...”

Whether or not Miu trailed off was unbeknownst to Maki, whose eyes began to take a sweep across the room to drone out Miu’s prattle. Most days, her bitching was irritating, to say the least, but today, especially with the forged note to Shirogane, Maki just wanted the lunch period to be over with.

Idabashi and Gokuhara were still busy-bodying over tater tots for Africa, though it was mostly Keebo, who was still shouting rhymes that related to being humane and money, who was doing the busy-bodying… looking away, Maki’s intense gaze softens when it lands on Tsumugi Shirogane, who had noticed the small, folded up leaf paper, and reached forward to gingerly unwrap the note. Looking away from the trainwreck that was surely about to crash, Maki quickly flitted her gaze away in the opposite direction, where she was met with an unfamiliar face staring directly at her. 

The first thing that stood out to Maki was his hair. It was a brilliant shade of dark purple and stood up atop of his head at an angle that must have taken an hour and half a bottle of hair gel, but looking at him — it suited him. Next, she took notice of the small beard that sat on his chin, which wasn’t common considering her peers — then her eyes met his own that were a warm lilac, that seemed dulled by an emotion she couldn’t quite put her finger on. He wore a dark navy blue coat that hung on him a bit too loosely, making him look more brooding and mysterious than he (probably) actually was — he raised his eyebrows at her, and Maki found herself flushing slightly at the realization she had probably been staring far too long and intensely for an average person. It wasn’t this realization that finally tore her red eyes away from his lilac ones, but rather the feeling of a chair brushing up against her leg not long after the said realization, jarring her to a stop.

“Oh, Maki, I’m sorry,” A familiar voice apologizes lazily before Maki has the chance to. 

The red-eyed girl smiles down fondly at the redhead in the seat she had bumped into. “Himiko, gosh...” 

  
Himiko Yumeno and Maki Harukawa were, believe it or not, childhood best friends, though their best-friendship came to a halt when Maki was admitted into Iruma’s group — though Miu herself was glaring at the sudden stop, eyes bulging in a way that hissed _what are you doing?_ — and she spent less and less time with her original friend. Himiko and Maki were still friends, somewhat, but Himiko’s divergence in trends kept her from hanging out with Maki frequently. For one, she was short and had a middle schooler’s proportions, meaning she couldn’t be fitted in the blazers Miu, Kirumi, and Kaede were so fond of (one of which Maki was wearing right then), and secondly, her indifference to casually hooking up with guys and attending parties while instead enjoying spending time with her friends and hobbies made her anything but Iruma-approved material.

Now smiling remorsefully, a trait Maki rarely inhabited, Maki begins to apologize before being cut off by the short redhead herself. “Hey, I’m really sorry I couldn’t make it to your birthday party last month —”

“It’s okay,” Himiko interrupted with a small smile accompanied with an understanding nod. “Your mom said you had a big date... think I’d probably miss my own birthday for a date...” 

“Don’t say that,” Maki mused after a chuckle that was empty of joy.

Suddenly, Yumeno’s eyes brightened, and she reached into her bag that was strewn near her feet — seeing her so energized startled Maki slightly, knowing how uncharacteristic it was for Himiko to feel any motivation for anything. _She must have really been looking forward to this,_ Maki thinks numbly to herself, a feeling of guilt stirring in her stomach. 

“Y’know, Maki-roll —” Out of the corner of her eye, Maki notices Iruma scoff at the use of the nickname that was reserved for Himiko’s use only, but she decides to ignore it, “I was digging through our old scrapbook the other day and found these old photographs...” 

Smiling a genuine smile that was only for Himiko, Maki tenderly grabbed the photographs, her fond smile growing at the picture of two young girls before her. To the left, a pair of dull red eyes visible even underneath a witch’s mask stared at her, and to the right, the head of red hair was not contained from below the magician’s hat the younger Yumeno had worn. The picture was an adorable remembrance of their friendship before Miu — which was the reason Maki suspected Miu harshly pulled her away. 

“I was talking to somebody!” Maki hissed with irritation plainly in her voice as she was pulled away from the table — it was a departure from her usual monotone voice she addressed others with. Out of the corner of her peripheral vision, she noticed Himiko bending down to grab the dropped photo, with her crush, Tenko Chabashira, helping her collect other photographs that had spilled out. Shooting an apologetic glance to the former that went unnoticed, Maki jerked her arm free of Miu’s iron-clad grip, shooting her a sharp look while doing so. If it were anyone else, this act would be undeservedly bold and egotistical, but Miu was beginning to get used to Maki’s twinges of annoyance — something she didn’t appreciate.

"Come _on,_ Maki," Miu scolded, her whining making Maki’s eyes return to their usual narrowed position. “How many times do I have to tell you? _Titless_ is a fucking virgin who doesn’t deserve the light of day from our bunch…” 

At the term “titless,” Maki began to zone out; back in middle school, Miu Iruma was infamous for her vulgar language and calling everyone virgins, and when particularly aggravated, her old insult-style would make a comeback. Maki can’t say she misses having to witness everyone be called a flat-chested, dildo-for-brains sack of shit by Miu, but her new method of humiliating and insulting wasn’t one she was particularly fond of.

As they approached a table piled with a portion of the debate team, Miu’s complaints died down as the conversation at the table did as well. 

“Great, here comes Iruma-san,” a familiar foreign islander voice perks up, the complaint heavily laced with her accent. Angie Yonaga sat, her flowy white hair tied up in two simple low pigtails that sat atop her blazer, which had replaced her bikini top with a matching skirt and yellow cardigan after she was instructed to do so (she had supposedly broken the school dress code), though she never looked too pleased with her new outfit. For a person who always adorned a cheery smile, unsettlingly upbeat and consistent laughs, as well as her passion for art and her culture, the drab blazer didn’t suit her. Angie might have been odd, but even with her excitableness, manipulative traits, and stubbornness, she was ironically one of the most tolerable on the debate team. Currently, her bright smile wasn’t on her face, instead a light frown, an incredibly rare sight to see — Maki briefly wondered what happened that upset her that much, before deciding she didn’t really care that much. She could have just been in a bad mood — that, or Miu Iruma’s presence could dampen even Yonaga’s joyous persona.

“Great…” Another girl dressed head to toe in an over-dramatic goth lolita-esque aesthetic — she looked straight from the 1700s — trails off, and Maki recognizes her as an upperclassman with an ego that competes with Iruma’s due to their richness built entirely on gambling.

Whether or not these group of students were aware that Miu could hear them clearly was unbeknownst to Maki, but she knew Miu didn’t mind either way — the way they would shit-talk her when they thought she wasn’t in hearing range and then turn around and pour out compliments to her never failed to amuse Iruma.

“Mornin’, Angie…” Miu greets lazily with a nod in her direction. “Love the blazer.” 

“Thanks!” Yonaga grinned, immediately plastering a smile on her face despite her not-at-all subtle distaste for the blazer itself. For most, this would suffice as a response, but for Angie, who was one of the most talkative people Maki knew of, she had to continue on with unneeded details. “Angie just got it last night at _The Limited_ and totally blew Angie’s allowance, too!”

Miu nodded disinterestedly, glancing down at her clipboard with her question sprawled at the top of the page — her handwriting used to be the messiest thing Maki had ever seen, but some time ago it had transitioned to the fanciest, most extra form of cursive she had seen. “Now check this out: you win 520 million yen from some sweepstakes event, and the same day that what’s-his-face gives you the check, aliens land on the planet and say they’re going to blow it up in two days. What do you do?”

“That’s easy,” The upperclassman, Celestia Ludenburg, smirked, the first to recover from the randomness of the question. “I’m a gambler, after all, and one of the best, at that — give me that money and I’d come back with double, no, _triple_ the amount. I only need a few million more until I can pay off the construction cost for my summer’s home in the kingdom of Novoselic. The castle is beautiful, I’ve overlooked the construction as it's gone along, and I’d be delighted to have you over for some milk tea once I am able to settle in,” She smiled politely, but Maki could sense the fauxness behind her tone. Ludenberg may be the Queen of Liars at her end of the roulette table, but not at Hope’s Peak Academy, where students like Miu Iruma could detect lies in their sleep. 

“Anyway…!” Angie cleared her throat. “If Angie had that money, she’d give it all to the homeless to take care of themselves and to use the spare money for hobbies, like art! Every cent!” Maki couldn’t tell if it was intentional or not, but Angie stared straight ahead at Iruma, almost daring her to one-up her. It was barbaric even expecting Miu to want to compete for the better humanitarian role — if Miu had indeed gotten 520 million yen with 2 days to spend it, Maki had little to no doubt it would be on something useless like designer shoes or heaps of beer for a party with all her university friends. 

“You’re beautiful, both of you,” Maki said flatly, already wanting to leave the cafeteria after the first polling stop. Not waiting to see their reactions, Maki turned on her heel and stalked off about four tables before Miu caught up, yanking her shoulder back, halting her in place. She had finished recording the responses of the debate team and was now sending her a glare that implied a threat that she hadn’t even said yet. 

“If you’re going to openly be a bitch…” Miu frowned, eyes narrowed and glinting with disapproval. She trailed off, leaving her threat unfinished; she didn’t have to complete her thought.

“It’s just, Iruma — _Miu,_ ” Maki corrects herself, “Why can’t we talk to different types of people? Just for once?” 

“Fuck me gently with a chainsaw,” Miu snarled, cutting her off curtly. Her old insulting routine was making quite the appearance today. “Do I _look_ like Mother Theresa? If I did, I probably wouldn’t mind talking to the _Geek_ Squad…” Iruma continued, disgust evident in her tone, gesturing to the aforementioned group, a clan of social rejects with glasses, bow ties, and overall the stereotypical nerdy look and vibe to them.

Despite being very skilled in some of the subjects the aforementioned Geek Squad excelled at, Miu scowled at the mere glance at them; she hated geekiness for reasons unknown to Maki, though she couldn’t really care much about Miu’s reasoning. 

Turning to look at the Geek Squad, Maki grimaces upon the sight of one in particular spitting milk out of their nose, hurryingly reaching for a handful of napkins to clean up the mess. “Did you see that? Miu Iruma just looked _right_ at me!” The nerd hissed hushedly to his friends, though Maki could hear it from her position feet away from the table. The others at the table hurriedly help clean up the spill, nervous under the intense stare of Miu.

“Does it not bother you that everyone at this school thinks you’re a piranha?” Maki questioned in a low voice, now turning back to Miu. 

“Like I give a shit,” Miu scoffed in response. “They all want me as a friend or a fuck! I’m worshipped at Hope’s Peak, and I’m only a junior…”

Maki gives Miu a look, one that is both exasperated and pleading, and if there was one thing Maki Harukawa did often, it was certainly not begging.

“Damn, Maki, fine,” Miu agrees with a roll of her eyes. Maki blinks in surprise — she hadn’t expected Miu to entertain her idea, much less agree to it. “I can’t believe this,” Miu continued to complain, her nose scrunching up in distaste as they made their way to their new audience, “We’re going to a party at Remington University tonight, and we’re brushing up on our conversational skills with the scum of the school…”

As they halted to a stop at the geek table, Maki and Miu stared down at the geeks and who were looking right back at them, waiting for them to speak. A few fidgeted in their seats, uncomfortable with the presence of half of the most powerful clique of the school.

Maki pitied them. “Hey,” she said, giving a nod to them. Timidly, they all give their series of greetings, and Miu clears her throat. 

“So this is what’s called a lunchtime poll,” Miu begins, speaking slowly and clearly, as if the boys in her presence were toddlers. Her eyebrows are raised slightly in an attempt to keep herself from rolling her eyes in front of the geeklings, and while their audience may not realize it, Maki recognized the annoyance in her tone.

“We ask a question, you answer and we write it down. Got it?” Without waiting for a sign of recognition, Miu looks down, reading from the clipboard in her hands. “You win 520 million yen in the Publisher’s Sweepstakes, and the same day that the Big Ed guy gives you the check, aliens land on the earth and say they’re going to blow up the world in two days. What do you do?”

Looks of surprise greet them. However, unlike the previous group, they ponder on the question, and it’s at least a minute before one of them gives an answer.

“I’d probably go to Egypt. With a girl.” The same boy who spilled milk all over himself earlier decides. 

A man to his left, who was infamous for being obsessed with a fictional character named Princess Piggles, snorts. “What a waste… I would use _my_ money to buy all the Princess Piggles merch that I don’t have yet! That way I can die with my beloved by my side! Beautiful, no?”

“No,” Miu says flatly. “Seriously, Yamada? It’s the last day of humanity and you want to have wet dreams over one of your anime waifus?” 

Internally slamming her head into a nearby wall, Maki yanks Miu away from the geek squad group before they could respond. If she hadn’t, there was no way whatever was about to happen would be pretty. Maki was tempted to reuse Miu’s one-liner ( _"If you're going to openly be a bitch..."_ ) but decided that if she did so, then it wouldn’t end well for _her._

“It’s not my fault Yamada’s a loser…” Miu laughs softly, though Maki hadn’t opened her mouth. “Seriously, Maki, quit pulling my dick. You _wanted_ to be part of the most popular clique in school, and if you want to be kept in, you hafta stop being the goody-two-shoes that girl scouts like Himiko Yumeno are.”

Maki kept silent. It was true — to be kept in the ruthless clique, she had to be ruthless herself.

“Whatever,” Miu says with a huff at the lack of a response. “Let’s continue polling.”

Next, the two returned to the table Himiko Yumeno sat at, who was now indulging in a tray of fries with Tenko Chabashira. After repeating the poll question, Yumeno shrugs tiredly, before giving her answer.

“I’d organize an end-of-the-world get-together, I guess,” she said with tranquility. “We could have cake, a magician, games…”

“That sounds amazing, Himiko!” Tenko exclaimed from her right, making Himiko flush slightly. A beat passes before she frowns as an afterthought occurs to her. “No guys though, right?”

They continued on. They reached the jocks’ table, and once their presence was identified by Leon and Kazuichi, they received whistles. Fighting a scowl, Maki bites the inside of her cheek and opts to remain silent and let Miu handle the poll.

“I’d pay Madonna 300 million yen to ride my face like one of those Kentucky Derbies,” Kazuichi answers with confidence, still eating his food, after receiving the question. Pausing, he quickly corrects himself, “No, wait — Sonia Nevermind, the total babe in my Homeroom. She's totally fine, too, since she's a princess an' all that. I would pay all that and more to bone her for two days straight,” Swallowing, he pauses with a frown following afterward. “She should be paying me, though,”

Disgusted, both Miu and Maki leave without giving a goodbye. “They think with their dicks,” Miu mutters as soon as they are out of earshot. “I’d be surprised if something besides condoms were inside their heads,”

Silently, Maki agreed with her but otherwise kept quiet.

Next, the two made their way to the " _HOPE'S PEAK ACADEMY FEEDS THE WORLD!_ " stand, where both Keebo and Gonta listened to the question intently and considered their possible answers — though Keebo looked as though he was only half-listening as he beckoned nearby students to drop their change in the glass jars. 

“Entomology research!” Gonta answered brightly. 

Miu frowns. “But the world is going to end in two days.”

Gonta tilted his head, not understanding her point. “And?” He questioned, bewildered. If it were anyone else, Miu would insult them, but when Gonta looked like a confused puppy, she couldn’t bring herself to.

“Nevermind.” Iruma decides on the response after a moment.

“And you, Keebo?” Miu asked after recording Gonta’s answer down, raising a brow. Maki noticed Miu shuffling her feet, and Maki resisted the urge to roll her eyes — she was so painfully obvious about her rekindling (though she was beginning to suspect that it had never died to begin with) crush on her middle school boyfriend it was comical. 

“See, this is important,” Keebo begins, eyes bright and wide with interest. Miu nods, readying her pen. It was definitely amusing to see the all-powerful Miu Iruma reduce herself to a schoolgirl with a crush, hanging onto his every word in a matter of seconds. “There’s the charities — can’t forget the kids in Africa, you know? — and the funding for Mr. Idabishi’s robots, then from whatever’s left there’s taxes, social security, and legal fees to account for…”

Maki began to drone his rant out, her eyes flitting across the room. Tsumugi, to her dread, seemed halfway through reading the long note, her cheeks a pale pink. Her manga book, which she had been heavily invested in minutes prior, now lay to the side, completely unacknowledged by the bluenette. Guiltily, Maki averts her vision, and once again her eyes land on the handsome James Dean-esque stranger. He’s still looking at her intensely, and upon their eye contact, he raised his eyebrows again, to which Maki raised hers in response. 

A swift tug of her sleeve from Miu is what distracted her — Keebo must have finished his long-winded answer, and thus, they were done with their stop. 

Iruma then dragged Maki outside the building to the cafeteria, her gaze set on a quartet leaning against a car — she doubted it was theirs — each smoking a cigarette. 

Miu repeats the question to them, and one of them, a short blonde wearing a tuxedo that was out of place considering his audience, nudges the boy on his left, one with eyeliner around his light purple eyes, though the most striking thing about his appearance was the pompadour atop of his head, which had to be at least a foot long and looked like it was from the 60s. “That’s gotta be the most spooky-ass question I’ve ever heard, right, Mondo?”

Mondo nodded, scoffing in amusement with the smallest hints of a smile. “Honestly, I’d want to go in some badass way, you know? Maybe I’d buy out a zoo, get some tiger, and shove a remote-control bomb up its ass. Then, I’d push the button, so me an’ the tiger die as one.”

The other two with them — a tall man with brown a green tie who introduced himself as Hajime Hinata and another, Nagito Komaeda, with wild, white hair and a distant smile — stare, the latter of the two nodding in agreement while the former man shook his head in bemusement.

“That’s pretty very,” Miu comments after a pause, nodding her head in thanks. Turning around, she heads back in the building, with Maki following her — Mondo’s answer was odd, to say the least, and rendered her speechless.

Miu hauled Maki once again to their final stop — Miu guessed Shirogane would be ready to be humiliated by the time they returned — a group of stoners gathered in a corridor of smoke. Amongst their tattered clothes and knotty hair, Miu and Maki stood out like formally-dressed sore thumbs.

Once again, Iruma questions the group, though their answer was much more abrupt than the other answers they had gathered:

“...What?”

As the duo made their way back to the cafeteria, Miu scans the list of answers, which was much fuller and longer than usual, with an amused scoff. “Can you believe what some of these virgins would do with their money? God, they should have opted to buy a _life..._ "

Unamused, Maki rolls her eyes, before settling for a steely glare at Miu. As much as she wanted to tell her off, she still cared for her reputation. As long as Miu wasn’t hellbent on destroying her, she’d be fine. Those were words she repeated to herself on a daily basis. “Don’t tell me. Come on, let’s just go.” 

Miu shrugs indifferently, and the two continue their walk back in silence.

Upon entering the cafeteria again, Kaede immediately beckons the two over, practically glowing with anticipation. As they arrive back at their table, Kaede giggles as she peers in the direction of Shirogane — Kirumi had even placed her book to the side, looking up with interest.

Jabbing her thumb in Tsumugi’s direction, Kaede’s anticipating smile of delight grows even larger. “Oh God, here we go…”

Miu, Kirumi, Kaede, and Maki watch as Tsumugi looks back and forth from the note in her hand to Leon himself, and back to the note again. He thought she was “sweet”... at this thought, Tsumugi gathers her courage and the note, rises from her seat, and makes her way to the jock table. No other student — besides Miu and co. — pay her any attention, until her feet have brought herself to her destination. 

Leon looks up from his seat, clearly surprised at the sight of Tsumugi Shirogane holding a note timidly in front of him. She hands him the note, and his eyes scan across the paper — and he laughs.

Kuwata began to pass the paper around the table; even from far away Maki could tell he had tears in his eyes from his laughter, and soon enough, Kazuichi and the rest of the jocks seated at their table joined in on his laughter. Some other students nearby laugh as well — Miu, Kaede, and Kirumi included. Tsumugi, cheeks red and eyes particularly watery, turns on her heel and dashed out of the cafeteria to probably hide out in the nearest bathroom stall. Maki wanted to do the same out of her own disgust and shame for not putting up a bigger fight against Miu.

Turning away from the scene, Maki once again caught the boy from before staring at her. His face betrayed no emotion; he simply shook his head and gave a half-shrug. Tearing herself away from both his gaze and her friend group, she stormed off to Keebo and Gonta’s " _HOPE'S PEAK ACADEMY FEEDS THE WORLD!_ " stand, leaning against it.

“Oh, hey, Maki,” Keebo greets in his usual cheerful tone, slightly taken aback by her sudden appearance. Then, he continues preaching; “A five keeps the neighborhood alive! Come on, everyone…!”

Maki’s shoulder jerked back with a tug, and she turned around to be met face-to-face with a slightly ticked-off Miu Iruma. Before she could question Miu, Maki was pulled away from the donation stand, away from uninvited ears. 

“You wanted to be a member of the most powerful clique in school,” Miu reminded her for the second time that day with raised eyebrows. If one wasn't already familiar with Miu, her tone of voice could easily be misinterpreted as sympathetic — however, Maki knew by now any supposed compassion and concern from Miu was really just delicately masked malice. “If I wasn’t already the head of it, I’d want the same thing.”

Making a face, Maki scoffs and shakes her head. As if anticipating her departure, Miu grabs hold of Maki’s wrist, her nails sinking into her skin. Despite the fact it definitely hurt, Maki doesn’t allow her face to move a muscle.

“You’ve been dead-set on ruining my day, you know that?” Miu asks, her eyes narrowed. Her voice is even softer than it was before, except now it held clear hostility than it had all day. “First, you yakked about not wanting to write Shirogane that note, then you bitched about the prep snobs, and _then_ you wanted to socialize with the lowest of the low skanks, and now you seem to be suffering brain damage,” She snarled, frowning. 

“Come on, Maki,” She finishes, with a faux disappointed head shake. “You used to have a sense of humor.” 

Without waiting for a response, Miu drags Maki, who’s wrist she was still clutching, to a nearby bathroom, where Kirumi and Kaede were already waiting in.

Kaede was currently reapplying blush to her face with one of the biggest brushes Maki had seen — the brush was yellow, of course, to match the rest of her wardrobe. Miu immediately joined Kaede’s side, pulling a bottle of lip gloss out from the pocket of her blazer and steadily applying it to her lips. 

“Where’s Kirumi?” Maki questions, frowning at the disappearance of the other.

“In the bathroom stall,” Kaede supplied nonchalantly, waving her makeup brush in the direction of the said stall. 

“Maki, can you come back here for a minute?” Kirumi questioned, her voice muffled slightly by the stall door. 

Turning to her friends, Maki waves her index finger. “A true friend’s work is never done,” she quips, unbothered to hide the sarcasm in her tone, heading to the stall and locking the door behind her. 

“Gross!” Miu laughed, her shriek echoing throughout the otherwise empty bathroom. “Grow up, Kirumi, bulimia is so ‘87…” 

“You know, maybe you should see a doctor about this,” Maki pointed out from behind the locked door, choosing to ignore Miu’s snide comment. She filed her right index finger, the same one she had twirled moments ago, looking at Kirumi, who wasn’t meeting her eyes.

“Yeah, maybe,” Kirumi concedes. 

“Come on, Kirumi, let’s take another look at today’s lunch,” Miu gleefully mocks, a snort following afterward. Kaede laughs, though it sounds a bit hollow to Maki. 

Maki gives Kirumi a look that instructed Kirumi to ignore them, and if there was one thing Kirumi nearly always followed, it would undoubtedly be instructions. 

Nodding, Tojo opens her mouth, her cheeks flushing — even after the hundredth time of this routine, she never got less embarrassed by it. 

After a deep breath, Maki wasted no time and jabbed her finger in. 

* * *

Emerging from the bathroom, Maki feels herself once again being drawn to the stranger that sat alone in the corner of the cafeteria. For the first time since seeing him, he was not staring at her, but rather surveying the rest of the cafeteria with a blank expression. 

A swift jab to her arm is what tore her eyes away from him. 

“God, Maki, drool much?” Kaede asked with a teasing smile. “His name’s Kaito Momota. He’s in my Japanese History. And he’s new, too —” 

“Miu? The clipboard?” Maki asked, her eyes not leaving Kaito Momota’s face for a second. She herself is a bit surprised at how breathless and rushed her words sound, though, thankfully, no one decides to comment on this. As soon as the clipboard is placed in her withdrawn hand, Maki strides forward, not sparing anybody around her a glance. She feels her friends look after her, and she can hear their amused giggles, but all her attention was funneled to the new kid, who had returned his gaze to hers upon noticing her approaching.

“Hey there, Momota,” Maki greets in her usual collected voice, though she’s unsure how she was able to maintain it at the sight of his smile. 

“Greetings and salutations,” Kaito returns, eyebrows raising once again. Maki gives the smallest hints of a smile humanly possible before remembering why she was here.

“This may seem like a stupid question…” she begins, glancing down at the list of answers before her. Right then, they seemed to be a sea of Miu’s quick cursive, as if Kaito’s gaze was enough to affect her vision. 

“There are no stupid questions,” He assures her with a laugh. Encouraged, knowing that he was about to be baffled, Maki now allows herself to actually smile, reading the question aloud. 

“You inherent five million yen the same day aliens land on earth and say they’re going to blow it up in two days,” Maki begins, her smile unwillingly growing larger at the sight of Kaito’s eyebrows furrowing in confusion. “What do you do?” 

A beat passes. “Well, that’s probably the stupidest question I’ve ever heard,” Kaito breathed out with a bemused shake of his head. This time, Maki allows herself to actually laugh at his response. 

“Who does that kid with the coat think he is?” Kazuichi asked with a frown, his eyes narrowed at the sight of Maki, _the_ closed-off Maki, laughing about something (probably) stupid with the new kid. “Bo Diddley?”

Leon scoffed. “Maki’s into his act, no doubt,"

"Let’s kick his ass!” Kazuichi snarls back. 

“Shit, Kaz, we’re seniors, man,” Leon responds with a hint of pride. “Too old for that kinda crap… let’s give him a good scare, though,” He decides, flashing the other a devilish grin. 

“I don’t know,” Kaito admitted with a shrug, back at his table with Maki. “I’d probably row out to the middle of a lake somewhere, bring along a bottle of tequila, my sax… some Bach…” he trails off again with another shrug.

“How very,” Maki replied with a nod of her head, accompanied by a smile that he was getting used to. Though the clipboard was in her arms, she hadn’t made a move to break away from their eye contact and record his answer. Clearing her throat, she continued. “Well, I should probably —”

“Hold on,” he stops her. “That’s not how this works,”

“Oh?” Maki asked, her brow furrowing slightly. “Is that so?” 

“Well, you asked me a question, right? Now you owe me an answer to one of my questions,” He grins. “You up for that?” 

She says nothing, only nodding. 

“Here’s my question: are you the Miu Iruma who’s doing the polls everyone’s buzzing about?” He inquires suavely. 

“God, no,” Maki informs him, giving a short laugh. “Maki. Maki Harukawa.” 

Before either can say anything else, Miu suddenly appears at Maki's side, gripping her nails into her arm for what felt like the seventeenth time that lunch period. “Come _on,_ Maki,"

But not even Miu’s usual bitching could deflate Maki’s mood. “Later, Momota,” 

He raises his eyebrows at her once again. Nodding his head at her, he smirks. “Definitely, Harukawa.”

Flashing him a smile that doesn’t deter even after Miu tugged her away, Maki was unaware of the two jocks that filled in her place after her departure.

The two’s eyes are narrowed into slits, and they stand over him intimidatingly. However, Kaito doesn’t appear to have deteriorated, let alone intimidated — if anything, he seems amused. Angered at the glint of entertainment in his eyes, Kazuichi sticks one of his fingers in a slice of pie that sat atop of Kaito’s tray that he had yet to begin eating. 

“You gonna eat this?” He questions in a soft tone that held many layers of intimidation — though Kaito’s features didn’t falter.

“What did your boyfriend say when you told him you were moving to Tokyo, Japan?” Leon added on, leaning forward as well. 

“Answer him, dick!” Kazuichi glared when the boy gave no response or acknowledgment. 

“Hey, Kaz,” Leon turned to him, changing the subject. “Doesn’t this cafeteria have a ‘No Fags Allowed’ rule?” 

Kazuichi seems to actually consider this before his eyes sparkle in realization. Catching on, he nods vigorously. 

“Yeah, but they seem to have an open-door policy for assholes, though, don’t they?” Kaito spoke up for the first time throughout the whole interaction with a grin that had clear smugness with it.

“What did you say, dickhead?” Leon sputters, shocked at the bold response. Nobody had ever talked back to them when they were shitting on them; by the look of Kazuichi’s face, he was in the same headspace.

Standing up, Kaito reaches into one of the inside pockets of his coat. Lazily, he mutters beneath his breath, “Allow me to, uh, repeat myself…”

Pulling a gun out of his coat — neither Leon nor Kazuichi could identify the type of gun — the boy grins at their sudden step backs and faces that went from shocked to scared in moments. Pointing it at them, and grinning even wider, he pulls the trigger, firing twice at the jock duo.

_BAM! BAM!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> roughly 20 pages in a doc later and here we are with the first chapter of a shitty heathers au is that the dream or what
> 
> if you want any elaboration on why i chose a certain character for a certain role i’d be more than happy to explain!! there were,,, SO MANY decisions i withdrew because this was shockingly hard to assign some characters some roles. if you're interested, i'd be happy to explain my other choices for heather duke and kurt and ram because there was an unbelievably long list. and i'm sure me putting kaede as heather m. is sure to raise somebody's eyebrows, so if ur curious, just lmk! the point is i want to know if someone cares enough about my dumb au KSFJSFNSL


	2. corn nuts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tonight was the night that miu, kirumi and kaede had been preparing maki for — her first party at remington university. an afternoon of croquet, pâté, and conversations at the snappy snack shack go by before miu and maki arrive at the party, neither knowing they were about to cross a line that neither could retreat from that evening — a line that would seal one's fate, leaving the other to clean up the mess.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for all the kind comments on the first chapter!! things like that really motivate me to write :) anyway, i'm sorry again for having rantaro and yasuhiro be really out of character (though that's more apparent in chapter three) i just. could not come up with any more characters to put as the high and drunk college assholes which sucks because i genuinely love rantaro and hiro a lot & rantaro really hates being assumed to be a womanizer yet here i am. making him one. because i couldn't think of someone else to use. i'm sorry i KNOW they deserve better
> 
> as promised, this chapter is like. half? of chapter one, and chapter three is a bit longer but not as long as chapter one. this was supposed to be posted hours ago but i got too busy throughout the day to post it so i'm doing so at 1:41 AM because who needs sleep??
> 
> !!!!! no TWs for this chapter, but chapter three will have them. !!!!!

“God, they won't _expel_ him!” Kaede said incredulously, amusement apparent in her tone. “They’ll just suspend him for a week or something…”

“He used a _real gun_ ,” Miu retorted scornfully. “They should throw his ass in a jail cell. Say, Maki, isn’t Shuichi interning as some detective? You think he could toss Mr. Hair Spray in the big house?”

Maki snorts softly, though the proposal wasn’t one she wanted to further pursue in the first place. “Don’t think so. He used blanks, remember?” She reminded the group after a shake of her head.

The quartet were situated in the backyard of the Saihara house, the family that had adopted Maki years ago. It was admittedly a little awkward at first, and at times Maki still felt overwhelmed by the amount of familial love in the house, but being accepted in the family of the Saiharas was an improvement from being isolated in the orphanage, dejected. 

Currently, they were playing their routine game of croquet, though more theorizing rather than playing croquet was taking up their time. 

“All Momota really did was ruin two pairs of pants,” Maki continued with a small smirk on her face at the thought. “Maybe not even that… can you bleach out urine stains?”

Kirumi’s soft laughter at the comment was drowned out by Kaede’s giggles. Miu, however, was unfazed, instead staring down at the red ball at her feet, calculating her options.

“You seem pretty amused,” Miu observed aloud, though she herself was clearly unamused. “I thought you’d given up on high school boys?”

“Never say never,” was all Maki could respond with, keeping her voice as flat as possible. 

With the conversation seeming to have reached a dead-end, Miu takes her turn. She knocks her own red ball in the direction of Kirumi’s green ball, resulting in the red bumping into the green with a soft _thud_. 

“So, what are you going to do, Miu?” Kirumi questions. “Take the two shots, or send me out?”

“Did you have a brain tumor for breakfast?” Miu snapped, irritated judging by the scowl on her face. Taking a step towards the taller girl, Miu continues, “First, you ask if you can be red, knowing that I'm _always_ red...”

Miu trails off, now wandering back to her ball, and placed a foot gently on the red one, which still laid next to Kirumi’s green ball, and with no hesitation, slammed her mallet into the side of her own, sending Kirumi’s flying…

…Until it landed with a dull thump across the backyard, from behind a large fountain-like structure, next to a few trees.

To put it simply, it was an impossible shot, and they all knew it.

“Shit,” Kirumi mutters, turning her head in the direction the ball had landed.

“It’s your turn,” Miu punctuated with a smug smirk. “Easy shot, Kirumi,” She added as faux encouragement.

“No way, no day,” Kaede snorts with her ever-present amusement.

“Give it up,” Maki adds in for good measure, though the joke feels unfamiliar in her mouth when it comes out as apathetic as it always did.

Despite this, Kirumi stalks towards her ball, takes a deep breath after surveying her surroundings, and swings her mallet into the side of her own ball. Amazingly, the ball bounces off a nearby statue, then a tree, and finally through a hoop planted firmly in the ground.

For a moment, everyone is rendered speechless, before Kaede’s gushes fill in the silence.

“God, that was incredible!”

“Holy shit,” Maki murmured, eyes widened in disbelief. 

A small smile grew on Kirumi’s face from their praise, and a light laugh slipped through her lips. Miu still hadn’t said anything, though she had recovered from her initial surprise.

“So, tonight’s the night,” Kaede mused aloud as she swung her mallet at her own yellow ball. It fell several inches short of her target. “You two excited?” 

“I’m giving Maki her shot, her first Remington party and everything,” Miu explained. Now turning to Maki, who was readying her aim for her own shot, she gave an expectant look that was similar to the one parents gave their children during a lecture. “You blow it tonight, girl, and it’s keggers with kids all next year.”

Maki apathetically nudges her mallet to her ball. It only progresses by a foot or two.

“Right,” Maki confirmed lazily. “You aren’t setting me up with some drunk, brainless jock, right?”

Miu nodded assuringly, though Maki was far from convinced. “Rantaro said the guy’s very, so you’ll be fine,”

Smacking her mallet onto her ball, the group watches as it bounces off of Kirumi’s green ball with a small _thump!_ coming from the impact.

“Why?” Kirumi asked, a hint of exasperation laced in her voice.

“Why not?” Miu inquired back, raising her eyebrows smugly. She shrugs indifferently at the retort. 

Before anyone could say anything else, Mrs. Saihara emerges from the inside of the house, a tray of pâté balanced in her hands. Mr. Saihara follows shortly behind her, one of his detective novels in hand. 

“Kaede, dear, your mother’s here,” She informs the lilac-eyed girl. Kaede nodded in thanks as the Saiharas settled the tray of pâté down on the table. 

“Come on, whoever wants a ride!” She offers to Miu and Kirumi, raising her yellow mallet slightly before digging the handle in the ground. Miu and Kirumi follow suit, all three dashing through the side gate of the backyard after a series of goodbyes to the Saiharas. 

Retrieving the balls, Maki deposits them and her own mallet next to the others, before seating herself in between the Saihara aunt and uncle at Mr. Saihara’s beckoning.

“So, what was the first week of spring vacation withdrawal like?” Mr. Saihara asked, folding a page on one of his Agatha Christie novels.

“I don’t know, it was okay, I guess,” Maki answers, reaching forward to the tray.

“Hey kid, isn’t the prom coming up?” Mrs. Saihara asked with a knowing smile, grabbing her own piece of pâté. 

Maki nodded indifferently. “I guess,” she muttered after chewing. Prom wasn’t ever anything that had excited her, after all, all the boys she had grown up with weren’t necessarily her ideal Prince Charming material. It was just another school dance filled with stiff dancing and teenagers hoping the drinks would be spiked. 

However, her apathy, which she had long gotten used to, didn’t deter Mrs. Saihara. “Any contestants worth mentioning?” 

“Perhaps,” Maki supplied, a smile forming at her lips from her guardian’s mischievous grin. “There’s kind of a dark horse in the running,” 

Maki recalled Kaito Momota’s smile, and the appeal of prom instantly shot up. 

“Goddamn,” Mr. Saihara muttered, closing his copy of _Murder on the Orient Express_ again, though Maki hadn’t noticed him opening it either. “Will somebody tell me why I keep on re-reading these detective novels?”

“Because you’re an idiot,” Maki said, her smile growing larger at the chance to use the inside joke. When Maki first got taken in by the family, she had aggravatedly called everything about the situation idiotic. Thankfully, the Saiharas were a patient bunch, and it had become a joke overtime as Maki grew fonder of them.

“Oh yeah, that’s it,” Mr. Saihara returned after a small chuckle. 

“You two…” Mrs. Saihara trailed off fondly.

“Where’s Shu?” Maki asked, changing the subject to her guardians’ son. “At the Kirigiri station?”

Both the Saiharas nod. “Don’t worry, he’ll be back by dinner after he and Kyoko finish their work.”

Grabbing one last piece of pâté, Maki nods, rising to her feet and turning to hurry into the house, upstairs to her room. “Great pâté, but I’m going to have to motor if I want to be ready for that party tonight,” she called over her shoulder, waving the two goodbye. They wave back, before turning back to their pâté, contently talking amongst themselves as Mr. Saihara returned to his novel.

* * *

“Grab Corn Nuts while you’re in there!” Miu hollered from the inside of her expensive red car. 

Maki paused, her hand on the handle of the entrance of the Snack Shack, calling over her shoulder to Miu. “B.Q or plain?”

“B.Q!”

Opening the door, Maki was greeted by a vast variety of snacks, a few people making late-night purchases of soda and chips, and music quietly playing from the radio. Making her way to the Corn Nuts display, Maki gingerly grabs a pack of barbecue from the rack. 

“You gonna pull a super-chug with that?”

Looking to her right, Maki was face-to-face with the boy from the cafeteria — Kaito. He was wearing the same laidback smile and seemed to be wearing the same clothes from earlier that day if his large coat indicated anything. Maki herself was not — rather than her black skirt, blue blazer, and matching tie, she had a grey off-the-shoulder top accompanied with a nearly-black, dark blue sleeveless dress. 

“No, but if you’re nice, I’ll let you buy me a slushie,” Maki answers slyly with a smirk. 

Kaito grinned back as he came closer. 

“I see you know your convenience store speak well,” Maki changed the subject as Kaito wandered to the slushie-making station. 

“Yeah, well… I've been moved around all my life,” Kaito began after a short laugh. “Nagoya, Yokohama, Osaka... Tokyo, Japan. There's always a Snappy Snack Shack. Any town, any time, I could pop a ham-and-cheese in the microwave, and feast on a turbo dog.” After a slight pause, he continues. “Keeps me sane.”

“Really?” Maki challenged monotonically. “That thing in the cafeteria you pulled today with Kuwata and Soda was pretty severe.” 

“The extreme always makes an impression,” Kaito notes, seemingly having nothing else to say on the topic. “Did you say a cherry or a Coke slushie?”

“I didn’t,” Maki points out. “Cherry.” She decides on with some smugness.

After paying for their snacks, the two left the Snack Shack, and Kaito gravitated towards his motorcycle, leaning on it. Maki followed, slowly slurping her cherry slushie. 

“Nice bike,” Maki compliments, nodding her head to the bike.

“Yeah, just a humble perk from my grandad’s construction company.” Kaito nods. Turning to the bike itself, he continues as he brings a cigarette from his coat pocket and lights it. “You’ve seen the commercial, right? Does the name ‘ _Big Bud Momota_ ’ ring a bell? You know, ‘ _I'm Big Bud Momota and if it's in your way, I'll make your day?_ ’”

Maki recognized the jingle immediately — anybody with a television would. She remembered how “Big Bud Momota” himself would pull the plunger, and both the building and screen would blow up, ending the commercial. She nearly vocalized this realization but decided to drop the subject of the commercial. Maki didn’t want to scare off one of the only people she had met that recognized that people such as Miu, Leon, and Kazuichi weren’t worth any respect.

“Your grandpa's _Big Bud Momota Construction?_ ” Maki finally asks, raising her eyebrows. Kaito nods wordlessly, finally raising the cigarette to his lips. “Must be rough, moving place to place…” she trails off sympathetically, unsure what to say — judging by how silent he was and how tense his shoulders were, she could gather that he must not have been fond of his family’s legacy. 

“Well, everybody’s got static in their life,” Kaito assures her. “Is your life perfect?” He questions, as if to make a point. 

Maki scoffs with a smile on her face. She had smiled more to this boy in the last day than she had to her friend group since, well, _ever._ “Oh yeah, I’m on my way to a party at Remington University—”

As if the words summoned her, a sharp _HONK!_ cut through her words. Maki whirled around and half-heartedly glared at Miu, whose hand was still on the horn, and she glared right back. She raised a single finger to Miu; _just a minute._

“No, my life’s not perfect,” Maki continued, now facing Kaito again. “I don’t really like my friends.”

Kaito blew a thin stream of smoke, before tapping the ash of his cigarette out. “I don’t really like your friends either,” he says with a light smile. 

“Well, it’s like…” Maki trailed off, trying to find the right words. “They’re people I work with, and our job is being popular and shit.”

The car horn sounded again — _time's up._ Both ignore it. 

“Maybe it’s time to take a vacation,” Kaito suggests, his eyes devoid of the delight from before, now serious. Maki gave a half-nod before she turned on her heel and headed to Miu’s car before she could hit her third strike. 

* * *

Miu’s grip on Maki’s fist never loosened as she led the latter through the building, navigating their way past drunk college students and the occasional passed out person. Twisting their way past all the obstacles, they finally made it to a dorm on the third floor, the heart of the party. Obnoxious lights brightened the room, and there were many messes of the room that were made up from the knick-knacks, furniture, and textbooks strewn across the room. Miu led Maki to two boys with flannel shirts; the highschoolers looked much more overdressed and sophisticated than the college men. 

“Ladies, toss your coats on the floor!” A man with light green hair said, and Miu smiled at him brightly. 

Maki recognized him as Rantaro, who was kind of Miu’s boyfriend, though neither were really dedicated to the title. Miu used Rantaro for a go-to drug provider and party invite, meanwhile Rantaro took pleasure in having Miu for himself every Friday night, in exchange for one of her friends to be one of his friends’ fuck for the night. Which was what Maki was here for.

“Oh, Maki, this is Yasuhiro,” Rantaro introduced, nodding to the man next to him who looked nothing short of high. And five years older than her. “Call him Hiro, though, only his folks call him Yasuhiro, you know? And Hiro, this is Maki Harukawa, Miu’s friend I was telling you about.”

“Excellent!” Hiro excitedly whispered to Rantaro’s ear — though, he fell short, making Maki and Miu able to hear him. Maki suddenly wished that the music was just a little louder. 

Maki continued to watch Hiro check her out with him biting his lip, from her heels to her styled hair, and she had to force her smile to not waver. 

“Did you girls bring your partying slippers?” Rantaro asked with a cheeky grin, sliding his arm around Miu’s waist. Maki forced herself not to grimace at Rantaro’s not at all discreet glance down Miu’s dress. She nearly pitied Miu, but then she remembered that Miu had sold her to the same fate herself. 

“Let’s party,” Miu agreed, facing Rantaro. She flicked her curled hair, which was free of one of her iconic and dominating scrunchies tonight, off her shoulder, and laughed. Maki couldn’t tell if she was overthinking it or not, but she could’ve sworn she heard a falter in her laugh. However, as soon as she heard it, it disappeared, unnoticed by Rantaro nor Hiro. 

“She loves to party,” Rantaro murmured to Hiro, who laughed in turn, before whispering to Rantaro something that made them both laugh. Maki looked at Miu, whose smile she was sure had fallen just a bit, and if Maki didn’t know any better, she would guess that she was insecure. However, this was _the_ apex-predator Miu Iruma — insecurities and Miu just didn’t fit together in the same dictionary, let alone the same thought. 

Taking a breath, Maki plasters an even wider smile on her face, something that was alien to her. She just had to get through the night without getting on Miu’s bad side, and she’d be fine. 

It was definitely doable, even if Hiro’s predatorial smile made Maki’s mind wander to another smile she would rather be seeing at the moment… 

_This is fine._ Maki concedes to herself inwardly. _Just keep Miu happy, and you’ll have a place to sit for lunch on Monday._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the "this is fine" line is making me think of that one comic meme thing with the dog and now im imagining that dog with maki's twin pigtails and in a veronica sawyer-esque outfit i am so sorry for that imagery
> 
> i hope you enjoyed!! chapter three is already written and will be posted on the 15th! fingers crossed i can have chapter four done before then bc i MAY start doing two chapters a week if i can maintain that but no promises.


	3. the payment in puke

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> maki has been at her first college party for roughly five minutes before she concludes that she undoubtedly, fully, positively despises everything about them, including the drunk and (?) high college student, hiro, who she cannot get off of her back. as the night ensues, her patience gets tested time and time again, before the night ends with her standing up to miu, and the results are a social death penalty for one, and will become _killer_ for the other in just a few hours...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was supposed to be out on the 25th but i got lazy so,, yeah,,,, i think i'll just update on saturdays now bc it fits best in my schedule. anyway rantaro and hiro i am so sorry for the amount of ooc-ness you have been through this chapter. good news is that this is their last appearance so at least there's that
> 
> **TW and CWs FOR CHAPTER THREE: ungraphic, implied and brief non-con elements, underage drinking, ungraphic sex**
> 
> !!!!!!!! _**if you'd like to skip on the non-con,**_ skip from "Miu withdrew, now meeting Rantaro's eyes." to "Yasuhiro was still half-heartedly attempting to draw Maki in conversation, with little to no avail." 
> 
> (this is the only time that non-con sex is in this story & it doesn't have an overall impact on the plot so feel free to skip!!)

"Here you go," Hiro said, shoving a red plastic solo cup of beer into one of Maki’s hands.

"Thanks," Maki murmured half-heartedly, more out of obligation rather than actual gratitude. She gingerly accepted the cup, careful for her fingers not to come in contact with his own, and raised it to her lips, pretending to take a long sip. Maki knew getting drunk and high at parties was expected of her now that she was a part of Miu’s clique, but that didn’t make the taste of beer any less nauseating to her. 

The two were surrounded by a sea of other drunk or high (or both, for some who were daring — or stupid — enough) students moving about the hallways. Maki knew none of them, save for Hiro, who was greedily chucking his solo cup at the moment. Miu and Rantaro had ditched them mere minutes after having introduced Maki and Hiro, probably to make out or get drunk or even high, though Maki would admittedly be unsurprised if they managed to do both.

Unfortunately, that left her alone with the one person she knew — _Hiro._

And, unfortunately, once again, he was already beginning to make small talk. 

And, to top it all off, Maki Harukawa _hated_ small talk. 

"You're a junior, right?" Hiro asked, his solo cup half as full as it was before. 

"Mhm," Maki confirmed disinterestedly, keeping her mouth in a firmly tight-lipped line, which wasn’t hard considering it was her resting face. She could only pray that, just like the rest of her peers, her off-putting attitude would discourage Hiro’s advances.

However, Maki seemed to have underestimated Hiro’s idiocy, as he actually seemed _encouraged_ by this answer, nodding in delight. Maki couldn’t keep herself from staring — there was absolutely no way someone could _possibly_ be this off on reading social cues. 

"So, what do you do?"

"What do you mean?" Maki asked. Seeing as how the drink in her hands would remain undrunk the entire night, and Maki wasn’t necessarily in the mood to befriend high college students (when was she ever?), she figured she would entertain Yasuhiro and his infinite questions. 

"Like, any extracurriculars or whatever?" He asks, words already slurring. Maki briefly wondered how much he had to drink before she and Miu had arrived, before reconsidering and concluding she couldn’t care less. She probably wouldn’t see this man ever again after tonight, after all, and even if she did, it wasn't like she was enjoying his company _now,_ let alone _later._

"Such as?" Maki pressed on dully. Her mind wandered back to the lunchtime poll that day — _Aliens land on the planet the day you inherit 520 million yen and say they'll blow up the planet in two days. What do you do?_ — and suddenly, she had her answer. 

_Bribe them to take me,_ she silently begs. _Take me, take me away from Miu Iruma, Leon Kuwata, Kazuichi Soda, and Yasuhiro. Away from Hope's Peak Academy, Remington University, Tokyo, Japan..._

"You know," Hiro supplies, unaware of Maki’s true thoughts. “Like, shit, I dunno… art club? Band? No wait, band’s fuckin’ lame as shit… ooh, what about cheerleading? You a cheerleader, my little cheerleader? Can I call you ' _my little cheerleader?_ '"

Maki stared at him, a mixture of dumbfoundedness and unsurprised indifference laced in her glare. For one, she couldn’t possibly imagine what led him to the conclusion she was a cheerleader, much less would want to be called _his_ little cheerleader. For another, she was straining very hard at the struggle to keep her scowl from emerging on her face. 

"No, no, no and absolutely not," Maki deadpans, only answering after a beat, and Hiro looks confused as if he had forgotten he had asked her multiple questions. Maki raises her cup to her lips once again, faking drinking the beer to conceal her rolling her eyes at his stupidity. _Idiot._

"Aw, really?" He pouted. Maki stared at him incredulously. Hardening her gaze further, Maki once again pretends to take a sip of her beer, before flitting her gaze away — to the ceiling, to a couple obnoxiously exchanging saliva across the hall, to countless students shouting above the music, just anywhere besides meeting Yasuhiro’s eyes. 

"You'd be a great cheerleader, though," Hiro encourages. Or, to be more accurate, he attempts to. "You have slender legs and a nice build. I'm sure you could do enough flips with that body. You could get a cute outfit with a short skirt and some pom-poms and shit and start waving them around, you know?"

Once again, Maki was nearly blown away by the man’s lack of boundaries, though she was beginning to grow accustomed to it in the short time she had known him. Not bothering to hide the disdain in her voice, Maki thanks him for the "compliment," deciding not to point out how much he must have studied her body to come to that conclusion for someone as dimwitted as he is. 

"It’s nice to be able to talk to a girl and not have to ask ' _what's your major?_ '" Yasuhiro continued after her steely thanks. "I hate that," he says with a stiff laugh. 

Maki doesn’t respond, instead just forcing a brief smile that seemed two layers short from being outwardly annoyed. At this, Hiro seemed to finally get the hint, averting his gaze from her own (though she had turned away), taking a large chug of his drink. 

"So... when you go to college, what subjects do you think you’ll study?"

* * *

Unbeknownst to Maki, Miu herself wasn’t exactly having the best time either. Most, if not _all_ of the girls at Hope’s Peak Academy would kill to be in Miu’s shoes currently — in the middle of a heated make-out session with a college boy, and one that was nice to look at, at that. But all she felt was numb and unsettled; the first was familiar, but the unfamiliarity of the second brought no feeling of comfort to Miu. 

Miu withdrew, now meeting Rantaro's eyes. "Come on, Rantaro. Shouldn’t we go back to the party?"

"We will," Rantaro assures her coolly, holding her gaze while fumbling with his fly. Miu ignored this. "It’s just that you’re so hot tonight… I can’t control myself…."

Miu nodded, though she lacked any real consent. However, when her head was gestured down by Rantaro’s hand, Miu silenced her wants and instead, obediently followed through with Rantaro’s unsaid instructions on his bed, ignoring the loud music and shouts from the party that was still underway.

* * *

Yasuhiro was still half-heartedly attempting to draw Maki in conversation, with little to no avail. Instead of upbeat and eager answers which he had been used to and expecting, Maki only supplied disinterested and incomplete answers that were devoid of any attraction or interest in the conversation or Hiro himself. 

"Hey, I’m gonna get a refill," Hiro excused himself, raising his red beer cup as he rose himself. A few beats had passed since his last failed attempt at conversation with Maki _("Listen, hear me out... if you could be, like, the best at anything out of all the teenagers in the world, what would it be? I'd totally be, like, a psychic, you_ know?" " _... How drunk and high are you to think that that's a good icebreaker?_ "), and Hiro seemed to be willing to back off for now. 

_Good,_ Maki can’t help but think after nodding, confirming she had heard him. _If he stays around any longer, the scent of weed might never leave my nose._

"Hey, but don't run away, now!" Hiro said with a chuckle that was accompanied with a wink ( _was he attempting to be flirtatious?_ Maki wondered, knowing that she would give him a grade below an F if she were to assess his flirting) and a pair of finger guns. He stumbled out of the area, bumping into nearly half a dozen people as he made a beeline for the drinks table. As soon as he was out of her vision, meaning he couldn’t turn around and spot her fleeing from the scene, Maki does just that. Turning on her heel, Maki stalked away from the overcrowded hallway without a feeling of pity or regret for her date. 

Her feet carried her to an abandoned loft, filled with more knickknacks strewn across the room, but most notably, dozens upon dozens of coats tossed carelessly on the top of the sofas in the room. Maki gravitates towards one of the couches, plopping down on it, though the feeling of the cold jackets against her legs startles her momentarily. Scowling, Maki lifts her cup to her lips, only pausing for a split second before taking her first sips of beer of the night. She had no one around her to pretend to be drunk with, after all, but she supposes that one could only handle so many moronic statements from a drunk and high college student like Yasuhiro before they had to indulge in beer. 

It tasted _so_ ghastly, so awful, and jagged on her tongue, that Maki swallowed it with disgust, a grimace twisting up her expressionless face. Maki couldn’t figure out what was so addicting about this drink and decided that she didn’t want to. The taste of the beer was enough for her to want to toss it out and throw up the pâté from earlier in the day. 

Carefully placing the cup on the coffee table that was overflowing with miscellaneous objects in front of her, Maki relaxes back on the couch, lazily listening to the booming music from the other rooms. Maki’s hands rummage around the couches until her hands latch onto her own coat. Maybe she could just fasten it around her, and run out the door? Tell Miu on Monday that Mrs. Saihara wanted her home so she would have an excuse to leave but retain her place to eat lunch on Monday? Run away until her feet bled from the blisters of walking all the way home from Remington University, as her ride was currently preoccupied? 

Maki’s hands run across a package of cigarettes. She doesn’t remember stuffing them into her coat before leaving, so truthfully, Maki has no idea what they’re doing in her coat pocket, but she doesn’t question it, instead taking the box out from her coat and withdrawing a cigarette. Maybe growing up an orphan in a shitty orphanage did that to people like her — to take advantage of every opportunity you get, no matter what it took to get that opportunity. 

Pulling a match from the pocket of a nearby couch, Maki lights the cigarette she had taken out, watching silently as the flame grows and dances gracefully, despite the rowdy environment. The flame flickers, distorting in and out of a round, perfect shape, and the more Maki examined the fire, the more it burned into the back of her mind. Ironically, the flame was the most interesting thing she had been acquainted with the entire evening. 

_Yasuhiro could learn a thing or two from a lit cigarette,_ Maki thinks, almost giggling childishly at the thought, the smallest of a grin stretching across her lips.

Maki watches the flame flicker more. The colors were still bright, new from the dull red lighting in the loft she was currently in, and now that Maki had been staring for half a minute, the flame seemed to have slowed to perfection and all Maki wanted was to touch it and weave her hands through the light. 

She stretches the hand that wasn’t already holding the cigarette out, and slowly inches closer and closer to the bud of the flame… but jerks the cigarette away on instinct as soon as she feels the heat emit from the cigarette too intensely for her liking. She watches the (still lit) cigarette land in the same cup of beer she had placed down moments ago, and the flame doubles immediately at the impact. Swiftly grabbing the cup, Maki tosses it out the nearby window and allows herself to sigh with relief upon noticing it land in a trash can below the window, already engulfing old newspapers in the trash can with the flames. 

Maki watches, almost hypnotized, as the flames grow brighter, stronger, and wider, and wishes that her instincts hadn’t kicked in. It felt almost right, in a way, for her hands and her body to be littered with hideous scars that she had given to herself, rather indirect or direct. 

_Oh well,_ Maki dwells, still watching the trash can. _Maybe in another life._

* * *

Miu stared at her reflection in the mirror in Rantaro’s bathroom, the loud and pounding music dulled by the isolated location of the bathroom, instead the sound of water filling up a flimsy paper cup she had found in the kitchen filling the silence in the room. At first glance, Miu still looked like the young and beautiful Miu Iruma everyone knew and loved at Hope’s Peak (though "loved" was a debatable word…) though even she recognized the tiredness in her eyes and the small traces of the eyebags she had tried so hard to cover up peeking through her makeup. Luckily for her, Rantaro was as insightful to her inward perspective as a toddler was to politics, though she thought if Maki had a good look at her she may be able to take in the true exhausted nature of the girl. 

She liked going to parties and hooking up with guys — she did! But now, whenever she showed up to parties, hooking up was all she did and it was getting old faster than she had expected. 

Miu glared at the eyebags that seemed apparent in the mirror. They were pathetic. 

( _She_ felt pathetic.)

Turning off the tab, Miu raised the cup to her lips, sipping the water. After gargling it around her mouth for a few moments, she spits it out in the mirror and straightens herself afterward. She smirks to herself in the mirror — even the small act of dominance had brought back her confidence. She was in control — that’s all she had to remember. 

Miu turned and strode out the room without another thought, returning to Rantaro, who was awaiting her in his room. 

* * *

"There you are!" Yasuhiro chirped, poking his head into the messy loft. Maki stared back stonily, her face not moving a muscle from the disinterested look she had been giving him all evening. Hiro strode to her side on the sofa, wrapping an arm around her and pulling her close. "How's my little cheerleader, huh?"

Maki doesn’t bother hiding her scowl at the title. Her stomach churned and she could feel bile creeping up her throat as her head throbbed ferociously, and Hiro’s lack of an understanding of the concept of personal space was making Maki close to choking the life out of him with her bare hands. Knowing him, though, he’d probably find that alluring. _Men._

Backing away from his advances, Maki freed herself of Hiro’s grasp around her, scooting to the side of the sofa. Unfortunately, Hiro followed and somehow pressed himself closer to Maki than before. His hand caresses her thigh, and while his hand was unusually warm, all Maki felt was cold right then. She was used to her skin always being cold and had grown to find comfort in it, but the shiver he had conjured was anything but. 

"Look, I don't feel so good, alright?" Maki started, hating how her voice had deterred from its usual stoniness. Before she could get another word in, Hiro laughs, effectively ignoring her. 

"I know everyone at your high school isn't so uptight... hey, let's do it on the coats; it'll be excellent!"

Maki stood, jerking herself away from his grasp. Hiro now laid on the coat, licking his lips while eyeing Maki up and down hungrily. Maki’s scowl vanishes from her face, and instead, she plasters on her death glare that sends anyone at her school running when they see her ticked off. _Please,_ Maki prayed, though she was unsure to who she was begging to, _have Hiro get the hint._

However, Hiro was currently looking directly at her exposed legs, and Maki knew that it was hopeless. 

Enough was finally enough; it was time to burst Hiro’s thirsty bubble, though she was unsure what the consequences would be. Maki was feeling bold though, remembering Kaito’s bold move in the cafeteria earlier today. How could she just allow herself to be shoved around by a meathead like Hiro when someone so anti-jerk-like such as Kaito was now in her life?

"You know, I have a little prepared speech for when my suitor wants more than I’m prepared to give him," Maki starts, amazingly keeping her tone at a leveled firm voice despite her stomach churning vigorously. "Gee, Blank, I had a really nice —"

Interrupting her, Hiro lets out another one of his hearty laughs, clearly more amused than attentive to her speech. In the back of her mind, Maki wondered if the man had ever taken anything seriously in his entire life. 

"Save the speeches for Malcolm X," He snorts, licking his lips once again and raising his eyebrows. "I just wanna get laid!" 

Somehow, her glare becomes even harsher. Maki didn’t think she’d glared at anyone this much since she had met Kokichi Ouma (though, admittedly, glaring at Kokichi was nearly a regular thing, if not a daily one).

"You don't _deserve_ my _fucking_ speech," Maki said, her voice just above a whisper. More often than not, Maki’s tone would be dangerously low and icy when angered, though there were few occasions where she had seriously lost her temper and shouted (most, if not all, of which included Kokichi Ouma).

Grabbing her coat, Maki turned on her heel and walked out the room, slamming the door behind her. Maki wouldn’t be surprised if Hiro yet _still_ did not understand Maki didn’t want to sleep with him; he seemed to be perhaps the biggest idiot she had ever encountered, and even if reincarnations and alternate universes _were_ real, Maki doubted any of her other selves had ever dealt with a greater idiot who was an even bigger pain in her ass than Hiro was.

As she sauntered through the hallway, maneuvering her way through the dancing and intoxicated people, no one paid her no mind, as it seemed the music had drowned out all of what had happened. 

She gravitated towards an empty corner in the room, leaning against the wall as she willed her stomach to stop churning. It had relaxed, just barely, upon escaping Hiro, but it had doubled in its intensity when she noticed Hiro leave the loft and twist his way through the students, finally reaching Miu and Rantaro, who were in the middle of a game of beer pong with other college students Maki didn’t recognize. Rantaro had his arm around Miu’s waist and was talking idly with the others, not noticing Hiro until he was directly in his line of vision. 

Maki saw Hiro’s lips move, though her stomach hurt too much to even attempt to focus on his lips and read what he was saying. Rantaro’s laidback smile fell into an uncaring small frown, and he turned to Miu and whispered something in her ear. She groaned, leaving his side, and it was only when Miu began to make her way towards Maki’s small corner that Maki realized that whatever was about to go down wasn’t going to end well for her. 

"What's your damage?" Miu snarls once she reaches Maki. "Hiro says you're being a real _cooze!_ "

"Miu, I feel really sick, like I'm going to throw up, so can we jam? _Please?_ " Maki pleaded, hating how powerless her voice sounded when it was desperate. Besides, it had to have been the third time that day she had begged Miu, which was surely worthy of setting a new record, however depowering it was to Maki's dignity. 

Miu’s mouth fell open slightly as if she couldn’t believe the question was even asked. "No," She said before hissing, "Hell no!"

Opening her mouth to argue, Maki pauses before instead crouching down and emptying her plate of pâté and beer on the floor. She can feel some students stares at her — after all, you can’t really miss someone puking their guts out in a crowded hallway — but as Maki straightens herself again, all she can focus on is Miu turning her head back, laughing uncharacteristically softly at the puddle of puke before her feet. 

"Let me grab my coat," Miu begins, and for a hopeful moment, Maki thinks that Miu was actually going to be reasonable and take her home before she continues with a cold smile. "You and I need to have a little girl talk. _In private._ " 

As Miu promptly turned away, Maki watched after her, taking a single deep breath before steeling her gaze again. Miu Iruma was not going to get the pleasure of intimidating her, she would be sure of it. 

* * *

As soon as Miu and Maki stepped out to the chilling air of the alley, closing the side-door behind them, Miu whirls around to face Maki, wasting no time giving her two cents on what had happened. 

"You. Stupid. Fuck!" Miu snarled, punctuating each word with a threatening step toward Maki’s direction. Maki’s face didn’t move a muscle, unwilling to see Miu filled with pleasure at her squirming. The words ' _You goddamn bitch!_ ' were pressing against her tongue, but rather than voicing them, Maki opted to stay silent and wait for Miu to (hopefully) calm down. She had _two_ rules ( _1\. Don't piss off Miu; 2. Never, under any circumstance, break the first rule_ ), both of which she had managed to break in the time gap of two hours.

"You were _nothing_ before you met me," Miu continues, now stopping in front of Maki. "You were playing Barbies with Himiko Yumeno! You were a bluebird! You were a Brownie! You were a _Girl Scout Cookie!_ "

Miu turns around again, angrily, pacing a few steps in her frustration. Maki noticed the trash can she had lit was still burning but didn’t pay too much mind to it as Miu turned around again, and started towards Maki until they were inches apart. 

“I got you into a Remington party,” Miu begins, almost breathless, as her blue eyes stare into Maki’s own red ones. Maki doesn’t blink or turn away, and she doesn’t say anything, either. Anything she could do would, chances are, be used against her. “And what’s my thanks? It’s on the hallway carpet! _I got paid in puke!_ " 

"Lick it up, Iruma," Maki murmurs icily, fixing one of her familiar glares to the former. "Lick. It. Up."

Miu’s eyes widened and her jaw dropped, but she quickly composed herself. Maki had seen Miu insult others with an ice-cold tone, but tonight, Miu Iruma was fired up and was seething with rage. 

"You goddamn bitch!" She hissed, dropping the words Maki had wanted to call Miu moments ago, before dropping her tone back to a stony voice that Maki more often had. "Monday morning, you’re history," Miu murmured, the anger in her voice moments ago diminishing with no trace. "I’ll tell everybody about tonight. You won’t get to be a nobody again; you’ll be an ex-somebody. Not even the _Geek Squad_ will want to touch you. Transfer to Green Hills. Transfer to Brave Heart Halls. No one at Hope’s Peak will let you play their reindeer games."

Miu turned on her heel and walked back into the building without another word, slamming the door as if to further punctuate the fact that she was done with Maki. 

(Like hell did Maki need _that_ fact to be further exemplified...)

Maki herself stood there motionlessly for a few moments before wrapping her coat around her tighter, before turning around and beginning her walk to the nearest phone booth to call a taxi for a ride home, seeing as her ride had just told her that Maki was dead to her.

* * *

The house was silent when Maki came home. A note was under her bedroom door when she came in. Reading the quick print handwriting, Maki recognized it immediately as her technical cousin’s handwriting:

_Maki,  
_ _I'm crashing at Kirigiri's with some other co-workers since the case still needs some work to be done. Mrs. and Mr. Saihara decided to take a weekend getaway (probably to one of those couple spas that I caught Mrs. Saihara checking out...) and told me they'd be back on Monday. We know you can take care of yourself for a night, but if you need anything, just call.  
_ _\- Shuichi_

Maki crumpled up the note and tossed it in the trash carelessly, before ripping off her party clothes and changing into her pajamas. She tied her hair up with a blue scrunchie, before tearing it off and replacing it with a single clip when she realized it reminded her of Miu. 

Now, Maki sat at her desk, her journal opened in front of her. She picked up a pen with dark blue ink, and scrawled the date at the top of the page, before beginning her entry, knowing her fingers would probably be sore from all the scribbling later. 

_Dear diary,  
_ _I want to kill, and you have to believe it's for more than selfish reasons, more than just a spoke in my menstrual cycle. You have to believe me. I can't explain it, but I'm allowed an understanding that the Saiharas and these Remington University assholes have chosen to ignore. I understand that I must stop Miu! Christ, Himiko Yumeno was a true friend and I sold her out for a bunch of Swatch-dogs and Diet Coke-heads. Offing Miu Iruma would be like killing the Wicked Witch of the West. Or was it East? No,_ West! _God, I sound like a fucking psycho. Tomorrow, I'll be kissing her aerobicized ass, but tonight, let me dream of a world without Miu — a world where I am free._

With her entry complete, Maki shuts the journal and flings it across the room, uncaring that she’d have to pick it up later. It hits the window frame, and Maki has to double-take when she notices a figure poke its head through her window. 

"Dreadful etiquette, I apologize," Kaito Momota murmurs breathlessly, sending Maki a grin that she can’t help but reciprocate. She huffs incredulously before reassuring him.

Normally, she would have wondered what he was doing in her house or even _how_ he had found her house, but currently, Maki wasn’t thinking straight.

"I saw the croquet set up in the back," He challenges. "You up for a match?"

* * *

"Thank you, that was my first game of strip croquet," Kaito laughed, and Maki hums in turn, smiling, allowing Kaito to hold her close to keep her warm. Their clothes had been ditched long ago and were strewn across various wickets and even the croquet handles from earlier in the day in her backyard, though Kaito’s jacket was wrapped around them like a blanket to keep them from shivering. 

"You're welcome," She returns, a hint of amusement in her normally stone-cold voice. "It's a lot more interesting than just flinging off your clothes and boning away on a neighbor's swing set...." 

Kaito laughed once again, and Maki couldn’t stop her own smile widening at the sound of it. "Well, there’s a lot to be said for throwing off your — _ow!_ " 

Maki laughed softly at his reaction to her biting him gently on the shoulder, and Kaito pressed a warm kiss against her forehead. It was definitely a good thing the Saiharas had all left the house for the night.

"What a night," Maki mused with a content sigh. Kaito continued to pepper kiss across her face, her neck, her shoulders, and anywhere he could access, and Maki’s eyelids fluttered closed as his smile widened even further against her skin, pleased with her reaction. "What a life. You know, they wanted to move me into high school in sixth grade because I was supposed to be this big genius," she begins, knowing Kaito was confused by this turn of the conversation, but he still listens intently as he continues to kiss her neck. "Then we decided to chuck the idea because I’d have trouble making friends, blah, blah, blah…" She continues, giving a low chuckle. "Now, ' _blah, blah, blah_ ' is all I do. I use my grand I.Q. to decide what color gloss to wear and how to hit three keggers before curfew —”

She’s cut off with a kiss on the lips from Kaito, and she allows herself to sink into it. 

When they break apart, Kaito looks up to the stars contemplatively as Maki buries herself in the crane of his neck. "Miu Iruma is one bitch that deserves to die," he said quietly.

Maki frowns into his neck, shaking her head. 

"Killing her won’t solve anything," She points out. "I say we just grow up, be adults, and die."

"Good plan," Kaito murmured into her hair, giving her another kiss. 

"But before that," Maki continues with a mischievous grin after breaking apart, "I’d like to see Miu Iruma puke her guts out."

The words have barely left her mouth before she’s swept into another kiss, and this time, she doesn’t say anything afterward, only continuing where they had left off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> everyone say goodbye to the highschool-au-ness of this au because the next chapter is when everything begins to go downhill for maki someone give this girl a therapist because she'll need one
> 
> if you've read, gave kudos, bookmarked, or commented on this post, thank you for the support i'm very happy you guys are enjoying it!! i have chapter four written and it'll be out on the 23rd! :) if i finish chapter five before then, then i may start aiming for two chapters a week but for now it's just one, and i doubt that the two chapters a week thing will happen/happen soon because writing that background kiiruma crush is having me in SUCH a kiiruma mood that i made a playlist for them and am beginning an angsty oneshot of them because it is MY comfort ship and i get to do what i want


	4. the myriad of life's problems includes a wake-up cup of liquid drainer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> maki and kaito play an innocent prank on miu iruma that goes south very, very quick.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **WARNINGS FOR CH. FOUR: descriptions of corpses/dying, murder (it's danganronpa so i'm assuming i shouldn't need to tag this but just in case), mention of suicide.**
> 
> **_please note that the topic of suicide will be present throughout the rest of this story. please click away if suicide is triggering or uncomfortable for you, nothing is worth making you feel like that._**
> 
> i just want to address two things real quickly:
> 
> a. i forgot that japanese schools don't start schools during autumn like where i live, so i'm really sorry about that inconsistency. i try my best to think of these types of inconsistencies while writing, but sometimes they slip my mind. i'll continue to use honorifics, but i'll be using the american school system and foods etc. for this story. if i use the wrong honorific please just lmk and i'll fix it as soon as i see the comment!!
> 
> b. i combine both the movie and musical in this, and occasionally i'll add in a bonus scene that was in neither, but mostly the movie. i just wanted to clarify this because i think that going forward the musical will be incorporated more but still not THAT much.
> 
> thank you for reading, i really do love writing this and i love that other people like reading this as well!
> 
> anyway these titles get longer and longer as the word count per chapter extends and i am so sorry

Maki awoke to the sun peeking through the blinds of her room, and a pair of arms firmly wrapped around her, pulling her in. She momentarily panicked before remembering the events of the night before — making out, talking, laughing, stargazing, and even more making out, until the two were so tired that they trudged upstairs to sleep comfortably in Maki’s bed. 

Inwardly, Maki thanked whatever God or deity was above (if there was one), grateful yet again for her guardians' sudden departure. Normally, she would have questioned it, but under the circumstances, Maki couldn’t bring herself to care much, if at all. 

Her stirring must have awoken Kaito, who had begun to shift lazily underneath her sheets, tightening his grip on her. 

"Mornin', Harumaki," Kaito murmured into her hair. As of last night, only five people had permission to call her that or Maki Roll interchangeably — Himiko, Shuichi, the Saiharas, and now Kaito. It rolled off his tongue as if he had called her that their entire lives and Maki found herself smiling, despite the fact he can’t see her smile. 

"Morning," she says back, curling into his arms more. Tilting her head back, she tiredly kisses his jawline, and he hums in response.

It was too domestic and too wonderful to last for too long, unfortunately. 

_Really, Harukawa?_

Maki's eyes widen, and she feels her body stiffen. She awaited the voice to speak again, but she only got a snore from behind her as Kaito had drifted off to sleep again. 

_Sleeping with psycho trench kid?_ The voice continued to chastise, and a familiar mocking sneer of distaste flashed to Maki's mind. The voice continued to prattle on inwardly in her mind, either uncaring or unaware of Maki's realization just who was speaking to her.

_I will_ crucify _you for this,_ the voice cackled gleefully. 

Briefly, Maki wonders why she's even listening, or how the voice in her head even appeared, but before she can even form these questions, the ghost of Miu's voice answers for her.

_I'm like oxygen; I'm everywhere,_ it supplies for her. _Anyway, like I was saying_ _— everyone at Hope's Peak's gonna know how_ the _Maki Harukawa is nothing more than a dirty slut._

Frowning, Maki almost asks the question that had been pressing on her tongue since Miu had come to power at Hope's Peak Academy — _why are you so determined to hurt everyone?_

_Because I_ _can,_ the voice unremorsefully. _And it'll be so very..._ Trailing off, Miu's voice finally falls silent, leaving Maki alone with her thoughts.

By being raised in a terrible orphanage whose guardians gave little to no shit for the kids in the said orphanage, Maki had learned a lot. She had learned to make five different types of breakfasts when she was 7, she learned the art of stealth and silence so she could quickly pawn a wallet or three at a nearby bar, she learned self-defense so spats from other kids wouldn’t result in bruises, she learned basic first aid and how to comfort to help the younger ones who had just learned what it felt like to be whipped by a belt, but most importantly, she had learned the art of survival.

So when she sprung out of bed and immediately gravitated her way to her closet, which was mostly filled with fine and rich clothes that were various shades of blue (which was to be expected when a part of Miu's clique which, if all went well today, she would still be a part of come Monday), Maki knew her survival instincts were kicking in. Sure, they had originally formed when Maki was trying to provide for kids who couldn't be provided for (but were thankfully moved to a different, better orphanage across town shortly after Maki’s adoption), but had slowly overtime transitioned from needing to be used for navigating her way past freezing winters and harsh beatings to the ferocious student body of Hope's Peak Academy.

( _Talk about a waste, right?_ )

(Maki wasn't sure if it was Miu's voice that had cackled that or perhaps her own.)

"Harumaki…?" Kaito asks, though her name comes out slurred because of his tiredness. Somehow, she wasn’t at all surprised he wasn’t a morning person.

"I gotta get to Miu's," Maki calls over her shoulder, answering the question that had been unasked. She's halfway done dressing now — a pair of black leggings had been slid onto her legs, and she was currently buttoning up a pale blue, nearly gray, shirt, before reaching over to grab a blazer that was a darker shade than a shirt to put over it. During this time, Kaito hadn't done so much as stretch in her bed, yawning lazily.

_Idiot,_ Maki mentally scoffs to herself, but even she can’t hide the fondness she had for him or the small smile on her face from herself.

"What?" Kaito asks groggily, her words only just dawning on him. "I thought you had said you were done with her?"

"Yeah, well that's just a sweet fantasy," Maki replies, the bitterness in her voice familiar and comforting to her tongue. "A world without Miu, a world where we're all free… they're nothing but stupid dreams. Now it's morning, and I have to head over to kiss her ass and fall to my knees just for her and the rest of the student body not to chew me up like a piranha on Monday."

A moment of stillness and silence passes by, and a bird lazily tweets outside, and the sun feels warm on Maki's constantly cold skin. If not for the weight of what she had just said, Maki wouldn't mind if the world froze forever and the rest of her existence was spent with Kaito draped in her bedsheets carelessly. 

"Let me come with," Kaito finally decides.

Maki can't help but raise an eyebrow. "Seriously?"

(He _did_ know what he was potentially getting himself into, right? Or did she underestimate his idiocy? She figured people with trench coats were sophisticated, but apparently not Kaito Momota…)

"Y'know, for backup," Kaito explains, now out of bed and pulling on his clothes, which were plopped at the foot of Maki’s bed, completely forgotten.

"Thanks," Maki says, just slightly above a whisper, taken aback by his willingness to help. Normally, _nobody_ at Hope's Peak was this brave with no ulterior motives — was it really possible for someone as amazing as Kaito to be real, and be _her's?_

Kaito nods, now pulling on his red shirt, and once his head pops back out, an encouraging grin is sporting his face.

"By the way," Maki calls out, reaching her doorknob, ready to go downstairs. Maybe she'd grab a plate of toast before heading out, or if she was _really_ desperate, she could take Miu out for brunch. She'd consult Kaito later. "You were my first," she mutters, still quiet, but now she was blushing furiously and couldn't make eye contact with him. She almost seemed shy, which Kaito couldn't help but find endearing.

She slips out the door and closes it before she can turn back to see his face or hear his response, but if she had, all she would see is a smitten face that was a mixture of shock (how was it possible guys hadn't fallen to their knees for her? Not even in a physical way, but just for _her?_ ) and pride.

(How had it only been a day, yet he could see them out-burning Bonnie and Clyde’s love?)

That, and how his face was as red as his vibrant red shirt.

* * *

Miu Iruma's room was the epitome of rich. 

Well, scratch that — _Miu Iruma_ was the epitome of rich, so of course her room would mirror her worth. She was the babe in the commercials, the gorgeous girl genius (she coined that title herself) with the most glamorous looks for miles, the princess who had plenty of extra cash to flaunt — so why _wouldn't_ she drape her bedroom in a constant, obnoxious reminder of how rich she was?

Most people needed to tap into their brains to unleash their talents, but not for Miu — sure, her secret, hidden talent for inventing and robotics (both of which were _very_ geeky. And Miu Iruma and geekiness did not mix, interact, or attract — at least publicly. Publicly, they repelled, and mercifully, no one was none the wiser to Miu's longing stares at the Science Fair and Robotics Club posters, or, more importantly, the boy who ran it — Keebo Idabashi), required some brains, but that was to be expected. However, the talent that everyone around her knew of — attracting people into getting her what she wanted — took little to no brain power or energy. All Miu had to do was make sure her outfit complemented her figure (not an issue — it always did) and that she had her usual award-winning, politician smile on her face, and any boy or girl she wanted for the afternoon was hers. Maybe partying or making out wasn’t a good use of her time to Miu's lawyer parents, but she was the rich girl, so what possible reason was there to not conform to its role?

So when guests first came into her room, Miu would always smugly milk in the awe from the guests because of the sheer amount of money that was present in the room, though she knew that they were expecting it — though that didn’t stop the room from looking any less than belonging to an entitled, spoiled mommy _and_ daddy's girl.

Paintings of a younger Iruma were hung on the walls, all hand-painted by some Novoselican artist that owed her mother a favor (or fifteen, judging by the number of paintings on the walls) after a run-in with the law that Miu's mother had argued their way out of. A dressing table and a red ottoman that acted as a chair were on the left of her, with lavish perfumes, expensive makeup, and several other knick-knacks on it, and even pictures of her clique stuck were in between the frame and glass. Post-it-notes that contained random bursts of inventing inspiration were stuck onto the opposing side of the mirror, hidden from trespassing eyes. Drawers aligned the walls with more knick-knacks on them, and fluffy rugs that were soothing to the touch were strewn on the floor. A desk and chair were tucked in the far corner of her room, which had been abandoned since Thursday afternoon. Red velvet chairs hugged the walls, and in the center of her room stood a glass table that had magazines and books lazily, but nevertheless neatly, laid on it. 

In short, Miu knew her room was to die for by any girl on the planet, but at the moment, her pounding headache and groggy body was keeping her from reminiscing. Miu Iruma was stand-offish to those she didn’t like at best, but when hungover, her attitude took a complete U-turn, and not in a preferable direction.

Currently, she lay in her four-poster bed, comfortably positioned with the fluffy pillows and rich blankets. Her silk pajamas hugged her body, and even if her hair could really use a comb to be run through with, her red scrunchie kept it out of her face. She was trying to drone out the chatter of her lawyer parents, but their voices still made themselves heard no matter how hard she pressed one of her pillows around her ears in an attempt to block out the noise.

"Miu, I can’t even _remember_ the last time you joined us for brunch at Grandma's!" Her father was trying to reason with her, though Miu stubbornly didn't lift a muscle from her position in bed.

"It's only one meal and some conversation," Her mother scoffed. Generally, in the Iruma household, her father played good cop whereas her mother played bad cop. If she were to be completely and brutally honest, neither approach worked on Miu. "You'll survive an afternoon of no gossiping with Kirumi, Kaede, and Maki about whatever it is you girls yak about."

"No," Miu insisted, too tired of both the conversation and the hangover, to come up with a better insult. "Buzz off!"

The words " _you virgins!_ " were nearly added afterward, but thankfully hungover Miu still retained her senses. She didn’t want to spend the first weeks after spring vacation grounded, after all.

"Wh-what does that mean?" Her father asked sheepishly in a low voice. 

Miu had had enough. "It means get outta my room and let me go back to sleep!"

Accepting defeat, her parents begin shrinking away from the foot of her bed, already making their way out the door. 

"Rest well, sweetie," Miu's dad smiles before leaving the room, leaving Miu with her mother. 

"Call us if you need anything," Her mom decides on, finally leaving the room, knowing full well she wouldn't call. She never did. 

After the slam of the door, Miu is left alone in the room, and she becomes aware of how quiet it is. The birds are chirping ( _the little shits,_ Miu complains inwardly, shutting her eyes harder and tightening her jaw in annoyance) and she could swear she hears some kid being rowdy in their backyard — it _was_ a Saturday, after all, and Miu could distinctly remember when she was a kid she and all the other kids were one huge clique and would play kickball on Saturdays, before all the cliques were formed and everyone branched away. Miu doesn't allow herself to ponder on those times, because that seemed like something people like Himiko Yumeno or Maki Harukawa did, and as of last night, Maki was dead to her along with all the other kids. 

Pushing the thought away, Miu turns on her side and hugs herself closer, shutting her eyes, attempting to fall asleep to the sounds of shouts of glee still ringing in her head as clearly as they had years ago. 

* * *

"How do you know Miu's going to be home?" Kaito asked as Maki swung open the side door to Miu's house. 

Maki had led the two to Miu’s home, a large home that screamed rich everywhere they looked. Even as they cut through the backyard, paying little to no attention to the picture-perfect backyard — the clear blue pool, spotless furniture, and perfectly trimmed hedges made it look like the cover of a home decor magazine — the two noted how despite the fact that the house was perfect for a weekend, no one was in sight. 

"Trust me," she mutters over her shoulder as she slid open the back door, stepping foot into a dining area before turning to the kitchen, "she skips the Saturday morning trip to Grandma's even when she's _not_ hungover."

"Then we'll just concoct ourselves a little hangover cure that'll induce her to spew red, white, and blue, then…" Kaito grinned mischievously, following her to the kitchen.

"What about, like, milk and orange juice?" Maki calls over her shoulder, surveying the contents of the open refrigerator in front of her. "What’s the up-chuck factor on that?"

What first started as a mission for Miu's forgiveness was now a side job after exacting her revenge on Miu. Or, more likely, she'd make her an actual hangover cure with a few coughs into it to secure Miu’s forgiveness and invincibility from the rowdy students at Hope's Peak's antics.

Kaito was rifling through a cabinet beneath the sink, though Maki wasn't sure exactly what he was looking for. For a moment, she wonders if he was going to do some cleaning while they were there, before deciding no one can possibly be _that_ clueless. 

Upon hearing her voice, Kaito stops his rummaging for a moment and brings out a blue bottle of drainer with the words _DRAIN-OUT_ printed on the top. Kaito seemed to have been blissfully ignoring the words _DANGER_ and _POISON_ that sandwiched the graphic of a skull. 

"I'm a no-rust-build-up man myself," Kaito says with an amused grin, his voice as pleasant and light as air as if he were speaking of the weather. 

"Don't be a dick, that stuff'll kill her," Maki snapped almost robotically, not sure whether to laugh or to be alarmed at his comment. She looks up from the mini-shelf in the fridge and looks over to him, meeting his eyes. Kaito licks his lips in anticipation before they both look away — Maki's stomach churned, but she ignored the feeling.

"Thus ending her hangover," Kaito quips with a laugh. "C'mon, Harumaki, let's go with Drain-Out here!"

Ignoring him, Maki shut the refrigerator door, settling the milk and juice cartons on the kitchen island. 

"Alright," Maki muttered to herself, now rummaging through some of the cabinets under the island. She pulled out two cans of soup, and read over their labels to herself. Kaito had opened a cabinet while she read, and pulled out a single beer glass that didn't have a single scratch on it — to be expected of the Irumas. "Maybe we could cook up some soup and put it in a Coke?" Maki continued her thought after finishing reading. "Sounds pretty gross, right? Now should it be chicken noodle or bean with bacon…?"

Looking up from his cup, Kaito stops pouring the liquid drainer into the beer glass and looks up to Maki with faux exasperation. "Won’t ya put a lid on that crap?" Kaito asked. "I say we go with Big Blue here!"

Maki eyes the glass he raises with disdain. The drainer moved slightly at Kaito's abrupt gestures but was still thick and slow-moving and overall unsettling to look at. 

"What are you doing?" Maki asks in her clipped voice that was usually reserved for her peers at Hope's Peak who were pushing their luck when it came to her patience (which, admittedly, was nearly all the time). "You can't just… quit being a dick!" She snarls, her glare unwavering when Kaito bites his bottom lip to keep from laughing. "Besides, Miu’d never drink anything that looks like that," Maki points out. Unbeknownst to Kaito, the word " _Idiot_ " is unsaid after the contradiction.

Kaito shrugs half-heartedly as if the thought had just occurred to him.

(Of _course_ he hadn't thought that far.)

He reaches back into the cabinet and pulls out a blank porcelain cup with a matching cover, and gestures it towards Maki's milk and juice cartons and soup cans. "So we'll use this! She won't know what she's drinking!"

Maki scowled — technically, he wasn't wrong, so she couldn't defy his logic, but that didn't mean she approved one bit. So as long as she was there, the cup of liquid drainer wouldn't leave the room. 

"Just get me a cup, jerk," Maki mumbles, deciding not to use her ice-cold tone with him, as he'd probably hand the cup to her even _more_ sheepishly than he already looked. She shuffled over to him with the milk and juice cartons in hand, and as she predicted, Kaito willingly obeyed, though he continued to transfer the drainer from the beer glass to the porcelain mug. Maki resists the urge to openly and exaggeratingly roll her eyes at his insistence. _Idiot,_ she thinks, for what had to be the tenth time in the past 24 hours. 

"Okay, milk and orange juice..." Maki mutters to herself as she pours the mixture into her identical mug. She pours the orange juice until it reaches half-way, and then coats it off by eyeballing the amount of milk she poured on top of it. While doing so, Kaito puts the lid on top of his mug, proud of his creation. 

Maki stared at the ingredients in the cup, which were now a white with a sickly shade of pale orange under shadowing it. Was milk and orange juice enough to make Miu puke her guts out? She would be unsurprised if Miu had been exposed to even grosser stuff (though Maki wouldn’t have wanted the details).

"Maybe we could cough up a phlegm globber or something," Maki proposes, frowning down at her cup. Kaito hums, and suddenly, the two are furiously coughing into the cup, trying to get just a bit of mucus in the contents, though their attempts are in vain. If he weren't coughing furiously, Maki had no doubt that in different circumstances, Kaito would be giggling like a schoolboy. 

"No luck?" She questions Kaito, who only nodded in response as he tried to control his actual coughs that had spurred from the forced ones. She sighs, looking down at the phlegm-less concoction. "Oh well, milk and orange juice will do quite nicely," Maki decides, looking up to Kaito with a small, amused smile that was reserved for him.

"You chicken!" Kaito laughs, kissing her hoarsely on the forehead, and Maki shuts her eyes, leaning into the embrace as his goatee tickles the space between her eyes. He nudges his own drainer drink to Maki, and that's when Maki remembers she's supposed to be annoyed at him, _not_ smitten with him. 

(Which she certainly was. It was like she was a schoolgirl with her first crush all over again, except absolutely, undoubtedly much more freeing and wonderful and fulfilling.)

"You're not funny," Maki mutters, absentmindedly playing with one of her pigtails on the impulse of an old habit as she begins to put away the cleaning materials Kaito had brought out. She's blushing furiously, ashamed to have caught herself off guard, but Kaito just laughs. Plus, he thinks her small pout makes her look cuter and makes the situation more amusing. 

"I'm sorry," Kaito apologizes, now leaning in for a kiss. His voice lacks any real sincerity, but still, Maki finds herself begrudgingly smiling and leaning in as well. As soon as their lips meet, Kaito wraps his arms around her, and Maki melts into the kiss, forgetting where she was or what she had come to do.

"Idiot," Maki murmurs upon breaking apart — though if it was because they broke apart or for pouring the blue drainer in the first place, Kaito couldn’t be confident of — though Kaito just laughs and pulls her back in again. Maki smiles into the kiss, and presses her hands against his chest gently, resisting the urge to throw her arms around his neck; if she did that, she didn’t think she’d be able to pull away. When she was kissing Kaito, time stilled, and all Maki wanted to do was stay in that bubble of safety — away from Miu, away from cliques, away from Hope's Peak and Remington, away from adulthood, away from reality — but this time was different. 

She pulls away, a hint of mischief in her smile. She had an operation, and she wasn’t going to forget about it because of a boy with a nice smile. Maybe in another life, she was a private investigator, or a maid, or an assassin with a hitlist who never failed a task — but she dismisses the thought, focusing on her current mission — _make Miu Iruma puke her guts out._

Smiling at Kaito, and not daring to look away from his eyes, Maki reaches for the milk and orange juice concoction, and once her hand meets porcelain, she retreats, backing away with a comforting smile on her face. 

He smiled back, moving to follow her, but took one last spare glance back down at the counter to inwardly bid his hangover cure of liquid drainer goodbye, but the mug on the counter didn’t have a lid on top. 

Kaito frowns. As soon as he looked down, it just confirmed what he was sure he already knew.

A white with a hint of orange stares back at his widened eyes. If the milk and orange juice mixture was here, then that meant Maki had the — 

"Harumaki?" Kaito calls, though he's unsure how his vocal cords were working when he could hear his heartbeat thumping steadily in his ears.

"Hmm?"  
  


He opens his mouth to warn her of his mistake, and to tell her to come back to get the intended cup, but the words that stumble out of his mouth are anything but. 

"Er, nevermind. I'll, uh, I'll carry the cup."

Kaito was unsure of the exact reason why something had screamed at him to lie to Maki. Well, scratch that — he had a good idea, but it wasn't the most saint-like to admit, and he sure as hell would never voice these thoughts to Maki; she'd leave him, believing he was a sociopath. 

Kaito would just egg Miu on, see how far into the bait she would sink her teeth into — of course, he would step in when Miu was about to take the drink, he didn't want to get him and Maki _arrested_ — though he couldn't deny he was curious to see what would happen. When he was younger, he was indirectly taught that the answer to his problems was destruction, and if his unofficial girlfriend’s biggest problems revolved around Miu Iruma, then _maybe_ toying around with the idea of her deletion would be entertaining. He remembered back when he and his grandparents lived in America for four months, Kaito had framed his bullies for vandalizing and ended up getting them suspended — _that_ was when he had discovered how peaceful the days without the bullies were at school, and _that_ was when Kaito had made it a goal to permanently remove bullies from a school, no matter the level he had to stoop to.

It didn't matter, anyway — Miu would never drink the drainer, as Maki had said, and Kaito would keep his (probably concerning) thought-provoking daydreams to himself until his next therapy session. 

(He decided to ignore the fact that his grandpa hadn't taken him to therapy since he was 13.)

The reassurance didn't provide an explanation to the churns of his stomach (was that dread? Excitement? The two were one and the same, two different sides of a coin, for Kaito, now), so Kaito ignored it, treading after Maki, up the stairs to the floor Miu's room was in, two steps at a time in pure Kaito fashion. 

He had to witness Miu's near brush with death for himself, after all.

* * *

To Maki and Kaito, Miu’s room was the epitome of rich — but if her room was the epitome of wealth, then Miu herself would be the epitome of royalty. 

She was sprawled in bed in a way that could only be described as artistically. Free of her snarkiness and scowl, Miu’s face was significantly relaxed in her sleep. Nothing looked more comfortable than her silk pajamas and large bed, which was fit for Miu’s impossible standards.

"Morning, Miu," Maki called.

Miu must have been a lighter sleeper than Maki had expected, as she immediately begins to stir, sitting up and opening her eyes, not allowing exhaustion to display itself. 

To Maki's surprise, she wasn't met with a scowl and a demand on why she was awoken — by the look on her face, she must have already known. 

"Maki," Miu greets, looking pointedly at the said girl. "And Jesse James." She now looked to Kaito, more hostility in her eyes. " _Quelle surprise._ Did you hear about Maki's affection for regurgitation?"

"Miu, I think we both said a lot of things we didn't mean last night," Maki attempts to reason, her voice cool and calm as if she were reasoning with a child rather than Miu Iruma. Maki fixes a smile on her face — not her actual one, but her controlled one.

If Miu knew she was bullshitting, she didn't say, as she only said two words to Maki that threw her off more easily than she'd like to admit:

" _Did we?_ "

Now looking at Kaito, Miu moves on before Maki can open her mouth. "How the hell d'you get in here?"

"Uh…" Kaito trailed off, surprised at the sudden turn in attention to him. However, he recovers quickly and soon is telling his second lie in the past five minutes, intentionally ignoring the question. "Maki knew you'd have a hangover, so we whipped up this for ya. It's a family recipe," He extends the mug to her, internally wondering if she actually _was_ going to take the bait. 

Miu's face screwed up incredulously with a hint of disgust.

_That must be a no, then,_ Kaito monologues to himself. 

"Did you put a phlegm globber, or something?" Miu snarls. Kaito notices Maki's smile growing in amusement, before falling slightly at her next words; "I'm not drinking that piss!"

Kaito laughs heartily as if he were not attempting to serve Miu a batch of liquid drainer. "I knew this stuff'd be too intense for her," He smirks to Maki knowingly, who returns it with a smaller one.

"' _Intense..._ '" Miu scoffs, a dangerous smile on her face as she yanks out her red scrunchie keeping her hair back. " _Grow up._ You think I'll drink it just because you call me _chicken?_ "

Kaito's grin widens further. He was nearly there. Giving a half-shrug, Kaito watches as Miu rises and storms towards him; he had won the game that Miu had unknowingly partaken in. 

"Just give me the cup, jerk," Miu snaps, seemingly too annoyed at the conversation to come up with a better and more insult for her usual standards.

Kaito gives another half-hearted shrug, handing her the mug. Miu thought it was a hangover cure, Maki thought it was a concoction that would make Miu ruin her own carpets, all while Kaito knew that she had just signed her death sentence. 

If he weren't so invested in what was about to happen, Kaito might have admitted what was in the mug, but currently, Kaito wanted to see how right his "destruction is the answer" mindset was in full proportion.

After a pointed, sour glare to Kaito in particular, Miu downs the entire mug of suicide juice, not turning an eye to the peculiar look of the contents. Both Kaito and Maki grinned in anticipation, though for different reasons.

Maki could immediately tell something was wrong. Miu's face had immediately begun to contort horribly, but this was too much for some phlegm and an odd mixture of drinks, even for Miu — she looked like one of those withering animals in one of those animal abuse videos Chisa Yukizome had shown her classes a few weeks ago, to promote vegetarianism or world peace or some other topic Maki couldn't bring herself to remember currently — all she was focusing on was Miu’s hands that had instinctively clamped up to her neck, desperately trying to control her breathing, sucking in through her teeth while still twisting in pain.

Frowning, Maki narrows her eyes at her teeth. They were normally flawless — the type of white, pearly whites that every American teen dreamed of — but now, a terribly familiar shade of blue coated them. 

Miu, who had looked nothing short of royalty moments ago, looked a hair away from collapsing over, dead. She now looked as if even the act of breathing was a hurdle to do by how sickly she looked. Her fair skin was now too pale for Maki's liking, and her blue eyes were wide in confusion and terror at what was happening to her. The slightest of spit began to dribble out of the outside of Miu's mouth, mixed with the blue of the drainer, and quickly following it was red of blood that was the same as Miu's own scrunchie she had ripped out of her hair moments prior.

Eyes beginning to roll back, Miu's mouth began to work even more desperately as her balance began to betray her. Maki noticed a single tear clawing its way out of Miu's right eye, possibly for the first time in years.

" _Corn nuts!_ " Miu wheezed, another tear following down her face, before falling forward, and unable to catch herself, through her own glass table, shattering it and falling still in the center of its shards. 

Maki momentarily couldn't breathe before she was rushing to Miu's side, commanding Kaito; "Don't just stand there like an idiot!" She scolds hurriedly, barely taking a breath between her words. "Call an ambulance!"

Kaito began to gently pry Maki away from Miu's body, flipping Miu over to check her pulse. Maki had seen more gruesome bodies ( _not corpses,_ she corrects herself. Miu Iruma was not dead — she couldn't have been…) from either detective files from Shuichi’s job or old crime novels where detailed illustrations had been included, but something about Miu’s body was hard to watch but even harder to look away from; Maki had seen beaten bodies ditched in dumpsters, cut up bodies slashed in fits of rage, hell, even a decapitated body at a railroad station (Shuichi's job was particularly grim), and Miu only had one line of blood dripping down from her chin, despite the crash and the fact she could find no glass shard bigger than an inch. If the scared look in her eyes weren't already enough to send Maki overboard, then the already dried up tears were. 

In less than an instant during Maki's analysis, Kaito's fingers are already checking for a pulse. "It's… a little late for that," he mutters, only now fully digesting the weight of what had happened. 

Maki rose from the shards of glass, some cutting into her legs, but whatever pain she felt from the cuts was outdone by the flips her stomach was doing.

"Oh, God…" Maki trails off, clutching her stomach as she stumbles toward the chair in front of Miu's vanity. She paid little to no mind to the pieces of glass digging into her feet as she departed from the body, feeling too sick to be deterred. "I feel like I'm gonna…"

She trailed off, taking sharp breaths to calm the storm stirring in her. Just by the look on her face, anyone could tell she was two notches away from emptying her stomach next to Miu's corpse. 

(Corpse. _Corpse. CORPSE._ Miu Iruma should _not_ have become a corpse — _she_ was supposed to be the one with the need to spew her breakfast out, not Maki…!)

"I can't believe it," Maki continued, breathing the words out in just above a whisper — she still felt too queasy. "I just killed my best friend."

"And your worst enemy," Kaito points out, too shell-shocked to register a proper response. 

"Same difference," Maki murmurs, apparently too shocked to do the same. 

"Shit…" Kaito trailed off, and Maki is too sick to her stomach to turn to him or, more fittingly, _yell_ at him for making the stupid drink in the first place. God, why hadn't he paid more attention? Or her, for that matter? If Maki had to guess, she'd assume that he was the same ghostly white that she was sure she herself was. 

Kaito now staggered to Maki's side, choking out a forced, hollow laugh. "What're we going to tell the cops?" He asked, laughing again, though the smile stretched on his face didn't reach his eyes as the shock was still settling in. "' _Fuck it if she can't take a joke, Sarge?_ '"

"Oh God, the cops…" Maki whispers, too panicked to even reprimand him for the tasteless joke. "I can't believe this is my life… I'm going to have to send my SAT scores to San Quentin instead of Stanford…"

"I'm just a little freaked, you know?" Kaito mutters, more to himself, though Maki absentmindedly nods along. A moment of tense and queasy silence ensues before he opens his mouth again. 

"Well, at least you got what y'wanted…"

Maki's muscles seem to remember how to work, as Maki whirls her head around to meet him with a glare beyond incredulous, pulling a muscle in her daze. Was this supposed to be his way of making light of the situation? The only light they were going to see was the light of the sirens attached to police cars, Maki knew it…. 

" _Got what I wanted?_ " Maki hisses, lips moving on their own. "It is _one_ thing to want somebody out of your life, and it is _another_ thing to serve them a wake-up cup full of liquid drainer!" She finishes in a lower, more rushed whisper as if anyone could overhear them confessing to their crime. 

Maki continued to mutter under her breath (" _Idiot, idiot, idiot, idiot… God, how is this real life… idiot…_ ") as Kaito stumbled away from the vanity, trying to hurry up his processing of the situation. Maki would clearly need her time, and if Kaito wanted to spend his junior year not rotting in some jail cell, then he'd have to think, and fast. 

His eyes survey the room. Miu's corpse is the same as it was moments ago, though her tears were even more dried up now. A myriad of glass shards lay underneath her, and a few were even entangled in her hair from Kaito abruptly turning her around. The magazines and books that were on the glass coffee table before Miu had collapsed through it now laid on the floor, and were to be never opened by Miu again.

A familiar book caught Kaito’s eye — the yellow and black on the cover stood out in the sea of red and glass. 

_THE BELL JAR_

It had been forever since he had picked up a book, let alone _this_ book, but the beginnings of an idea began bubbling in his mind as he recalled the events, and as soon as his eyes caught the title of the magazine underneath the copy of the book, the words were already falling out of his mouth. 

"We… we did a murder…" Kaito began, collecting his thoughts as he began to pace. If Maki's mind still wasn't spinning, she would have turned to glare at him for the unhelpfully obvious remark. "And that's a crime, but what if this were like a suicide thing?"

"A suicide thing?" Maki echoed, though she immediately understood as soon as Kaito shoved a book and a magazine to her: they were, of course, _The Bell Jar_ and a magazine titled _The Fall of The Modern-Day Teen_. He opened each to the first page, and printed in Miu's extra and fancy cursive were the words _This book belongs to Miu Iruma_ in blood-red ink. 

"You can do Iruma's handwriting as good as your own, right?" Kaito asks. Maki nods, taking a deep breath before rummaging through Miu's drawers, bringing out a pen with a large feather at the end of it and a pad of stationery paper. It felt wrong to be rifling through a dead girl's things minutes after she had died, but seeing as Maki was indirectly and partly responsible for Miu's death, she wouldn't put it past her to toe past a few inches on the line of morality.

After just a split moment of hesitation, Maki put the pen to paper, looping the letters excessively with the red ink, narrating what she was writing down aloud. Just like yesterday in the cafeteria ( _was it really yesterday?_ ), Maki had backed herself in a corner, and her hand was the only way out. 

"' _You might think what I’ve done is shocking…_ '" Maki begins, taking a breath between every few words, hurriedly scrawling down the words in Miu's handwriting. 

"' _To me, though, suicide is the logical answer to the myriad of problems life has given me_ —'" Kaito nodded, joining in. 

"That's good, but Miu'd never use the word 'myriad,'" Maki corrects with a limp shake of her head.

"This is the last thing she’s ever gonna write," Kaito pointed out, jabbing a finger to the note. "She'll want to cash-in on as many fifty-cent words as possible,"

"Yeah, but she missed 'myriad' on the vocab test two weeks ago," Maki insisted. 

"That only just proves my point more!" Kaito just as stubbornly refutes. "The word's a badge for her failures at school!"

"Okay, you're probably right, um…" Maki trailed off, shaking her head to refocus, turning back to the note and task at hand. "' _People think that just because you’re beautiful and popular, life is easy and fun; no one understood that I had feelings, too…_ '"

"' _I_ _die knowing no one knew the real me,_ '" Kaito finished as Maki quickly scribbled Miu's rushed signature underneath their words. The two exchanged half-smiles that didn't reach their eyes, only relief that they had come up with a plan evident enough to get away with murder — at least, in their eyes. The real test to see if their plan would actually be efficient and successful would come when the Irumas would come home from Saturday brunch at Grandma's. 

"It's good," Maki mumbled, her smile still not reaching her eyes. "Have you done this before?" She asks dryly, gesturing to Miu’s corpse and the note held in her own hands.

Kaito, for once, was silent, and instead gripped her hand feverishly, and she squeezes back as her gaze falls back on Miu's body, her face pale-stricken and afraid, her hands still grasped tightly around her neck, her eyes still wide with dried tears caking them, having not yet been shut yet. The two stared at it and stared at it for what felt like hours, before deciding it was time to get going, careful not to step on the remnants of what used to be the coffee table on their way out. 

* * *

It was around 4 PM when a sleek car pulled up in the Iruma driveway, and Mrs. and Mr. Iruma came out of the car, having just arrived home from Saturday morning brunch. The day had been relatively normal, and now, it was time to come home and prepare dinner for the family. 

"You get started on dinner, I'll get Miu," Mrs. Iruma informed her husband, who nodded, already washing his hands upon entering through the front door. 

A mug was set out, he realizes, upon entering the kitchen — it appeared to be milk, and he wasn't sure if it was his imagination or not, but Mr. Iruma could have sworn that it had an element of orange as well.

Had Miu taken it out? He hadn't known that milk and, what he assumed was, orange juice helps with hangovers, but he didn't think much of it, and simply put it back with the rest of the dishes in the sink.

Meanwhile, Mrs. Iruma was already halfway up the stairs, on her way to Miu's room.

"Miu? Miu?! _MIU!_ "

Silence greeted her.

She had expected a ticked off " _WHAT?!_ " in response, but Miu's mom hadn’t heard so much as her footsteps padding upstairs.

"Miu?" Mrs. Iruma called out once again, now standing in front of Miu's door. She got no response, which was annoying but unsurprising. "Miu, if you don't open this door right now then I swear to God…"

She trails off, leaving her threat unfinished — she didn't need to complete it, though, as unbeknownst to her, there was no one alive around to hear it.

Now fed up, Mrs. Iruma turns the handle of the door, opening it into the room. What laid before her was anything but what she was expecting — she had expected Miu to still be lounged in bed, fast asleep and uncaring that she had wasted a Saturday, but instead, Miu was drowned in a sea of glass that had been from the coffee table, limp and unmoving on her carpeted floor. 

Her husband is already by her side before Mrs. Iruma can register that she was screaming. 

The hours following the discovery of Miu's corpse went by too slowly for the Irumas. Two detectives had shown up, dragged to the home once the Irumas insisted that there was no way Miu had killed herself — it had to be a mistake! Upon their insistence, the detectives were called to run the case by the desperate parents.

One had pale and cascading lavender hair with a pair of eyes that were the same shade. Most notably, she wore gloves over her hands despite the spring heat, and they felt cool against both of the Iruma’s hands as she gave them each a firm but comforting handshake. To put it simply, she was the embodiment of professionalism.

"Kyoko Kirigiri," She introduced coolly, shaking their hands. "My condolences for your daughter,"

The other had striking navy hair that was well-kept and shiny. He wore all black, and while he too was professional like Kyoko, he had a distant look in his eyes that made him appear paler than (what they assumed was) normal, as if he recognized the corpse — if he did, though, he didn’t say anything and shook their hands timidly after introducing himself just as nervously. He stumbled over his words and looked nervous as if he would set one of them off at any moment, but nonetheless, he held an air of comfort as well with his empathy rather than his colleague’s sympathy. 

"Shuichi Saihara," He greeted, startled when he was addressed; he had spent maybe too long staring at what was Miu Iruma, and was currently thinking of the fact that _he'd_ have to be the one to tell his technical cousin about what happened to the ringleader of her clique. His stomach was already doing backflips at the thought of it… "I am so, so sorry for your loss. Based on what I hear from my cousin, she was the life of the party." He continued, pretending as if he weren’t lying through his teeth — Miu may have been an ultimate socialite, but that was certainly _not_ what he had heard from his cousin. 

"Thank you," Mrs. Iruma whispered, rubbing her husband's back. He had been silent since he had rushed to his wife's side, the view of his daughter's suicide on display in front of him. 

"You believe Iruma-san was murdered, correct?" Kyoko asked, her voice unwavering at the sight of the disheveled parents.

Generally, Kyoko wouldn't comfort the people she investigated for, as she was dead-set focused on the truth — besides, Shuichi would fulfill that role before she even had to open her mouth, and she knows it's because he's much more emotionally driven than she will ever be (which she is _not_ jealous of), but never bothered to ask for his exact reasoning. 

It was too personal, and most of the time, people who were _personal_ to Kyoko Kirigiri would end up leaving her life. 

"I'm sorry to inform you, but that isn't the case," Kyoko continues only after receiving feeble nods from both. "I'm afraid that the only person who did this to your daughter was herself."

Before Miu's parents could interject or ask how, Shuichi continued, answering the unasked questions.

"You said the doors were locked when you left, right?" He begins, and both nod. "There are no signs of a break-in, either. We checked Miu's phone records, as well, and she had no one scheduled to come over. No other neighbors heard or saw anyone enter, and there are no signs of struggle at the crime scene — here. Based on what you have already told us, there was no one she had angered or upset recently, so there's also no motive for murder — besides, the note was written in her own handwriting, and we even found some of her writing assignments, too, and the note was like her own writing style and handwriting, and…"

He trails off, looking at his coworker and friend, who gives him a reassuring nod. 

"She was reading… _these…"_ Shuichi informed them, handing Mrs. Iruma _THE FALL OF THE MODERN-DAY TEEN_ and Mr. Iruma _THE BELL JAR._

Both of them felt their stomachs drop. Shuichi and Kyoko continued to drone on in their explanation — a detailed series of events of what had gone down, even split into three acts — but neither were listening. 

"Can we…" Mr. Iruma begins, stammering as he sniffs. It was the first time he had spoken since he had come across Miu’s corpse. "Can we see the note?"

Kyoko nodded and handed him a pad of paper. Sure enough, in a familiar red ink, was a note wishing a cruel world goodbye in Miu's handwriting. It barely weighed anything, but staring at it and knowing the truth, it weighed heavily in his hand. 

"I'm sorry, but we must be going. We have a case to work on," Kyoko apologizes, sounding sincere. Shuichi nodded alongside her, shaking both of their hands again. "Thank you for listening, and we're both very sorry for your loss. Take care."

After that, both detectives saw themselves out, leaving the Irumas in the room without Miu's body (sometime during the explanation, she had been removed, and the remnants of the coffee table had been as well, as if the entire event never happened). They are left in the room that still reeks of Miu's perfume, though Miu would never use it again. They walk out, shutting the door, and don’t utter a word for the rest of the day, too shocked to say anything. 

What had started as a seemingly harmless refusal to brunch had ended in their daughter's suicide — maybe if they had just _seen_ the signs, she would still be here.

But they hadn't — and instead, they had to make preparations for Miu's funeral in a few days. 

(Little did they know, there were no signs to see, and the truth of what had happened that day would go on unsaid until all three involved were dead.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i didn't even bother to proofread this and it shows like i'm just plowing through chapter six and am too lazy to go back dozens of pages in docs for this chapter so i am also very sorry if there are extra spaces for the italics or some type of grammar error!!
> 
> writing miu's death similar to her canonical one physically hurt me so now i'll be continuing my already-too-long kiiruma one-shot to heal even though that entire one-shot is angst because apparently my need for fluff was balanced out with my ability to only being capable of wrting bittersweet one-shots that are impossibly long


	5. no longer a dead girl walking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> if you ignored the fact that the suicide of hope's peak's apex-predator was on nearly every news outlet and that the entirety of the student body and faculty wept for the true miu that was inside of miu (whatever _that_ meant), it was just like any other monday at hope's peak academy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> user m4kiroll: okay this will be a quick filler chapter before the funeral  
> also user m4kiroll: *writes nearly 20 pages in google docs for said filler chapter*
> 
> anyway, no warnings needed for this chapter but just be warned that i won't be adding suicide warnings anymore since the topic of suicide will be present throughout the rest of the story!!

Sunday passed by without incident. Kaito didn't stop by, and Shuichi went to investigate with Kyoko and another detective, and with Maki's guardians out for an impulsive getaway, that left Maki alone with her own thoughts throughout Sunday, and if she hadn't known any better, she would guess that Miu was haunting her. The pure shock and terror on Miu's face stayed stuck on her mind, no matter what she did. It was like a scratched record, forever unprogressing, still in time for eternity. The memory of foam and a small trickle of blood escaping Miu's lips as she gasped for air, tears rolling down her face just to dry, all as she continued to sway before she gave out, going out with a deafening shatter of glass stuck with her while eating, while watching TV, while doing homework — hell, while _blinking._

Maki wasn't sure if she dreaded or anticipated Monday to come. 

Nevertheless, it came, and by Monday morning, nearly everyone was aware of Miu's (supposed) suicide by first period. In a city like Tokyo, news by no means spread fast throughout the entire city, but the Irumas had powerful connections — you'd have to be lower than a nobody at Hope’s Peak to be clueless of the apex-predator's death. 

Hence, the staff meeting before homeroom on Monday morning — the staff were currently debating how best to handle the situation, as not only did none have any prior experience with a student committing suicide (it was Hope's Peak, after all), but when it was the most popular girl in the entire school? They were practically having a field day. 

"Any other headmaster would take the same position — keep things business as usual…" Jin Kirigiri, the headmaster of Hope's Peak, was currently saying. He was trying to convince the staff to not take the day off because of the suicide. 

He and various other staff members in the meeting room had a pipe or cigarette in hand with mugs of coffee, paperwork, and biscuits in front of them. Most of the other teachers and staff hummed in response. 

"Miu Iruma is not your everyday suicide — she was very popular." Koichi Kizakura points out next to him, holding his cigarette in between his fingers. 

"Come on, Koichi," Jin turns to him, almost immediately clapping back incredulously. "If I let these kids out before lunch, the switchboard'll light up like a Christmas tree."

"I must say, I was impressed to see that she used the word ' _myriad_ ' right on her suicide note. She missed it on the latest vocabulary test." Kazuo Tengan, one of the literature teachers, mutters, tapping the ash out of his cigarette and into an ashtray. 

"I find it… _profoundly_ disturbing that we're told of the tragic destruction of our youth, and all we can think to talk about is adequate mourning times and misused vocabulary words?” Another voice piped up. At Chisa Yukizome's words, the table collectively sighs, some even rolling their eyes, but Chisa continued as if no one had done anything.

(She also ignored the " _Christ..._ " that came from Jin Kirigiri while she was at it.) 

"We must _revel_ in this revealing moment!" She pressed, slamming a fist on the table. Chisa was determined, they'd give her that. "Look, I suggest that we get everybody together, both students and teachers, in the cafeteria and just _talk_ , and _feel_ — together!"

"Thank you, Yukizome-san, you can call me when the shuttle lands," Kirigiri said flatly with a pointed look to her, unimpressed. He turned back to Koichi as Yukizome began searching for copies of Miu's suicide note in her messy planning binder to further exemplify her point.

(Everyone collectively ignored the gym teacher's, Juzo Sakakura's, disbelieving reaffirmation: " _She made_ copies?") 

"Now, this was one of the popular girls, right? Miu was the cheerleader-pianist combo one, right?" Jin asked Koichi. 

Koichi shakes his head. "No, that’d be Akamatsu-san."

"Oh, damn!" He said, shaking his head with a snap of his fingers. “I’d be willing to go half a day for her..." Realizing how bad that sounded without a further explanation, Jin hurriedly explains himself. "She's brought us twice as many trophies and medals than everyone else since she's multi-talented and actually _good_ at both of her talents…"

"How about we take the last half of the day off?" Kyosuke Munakata asks quietly, having had enough of the bickering of his colleagues. "That way, the switchboard won't 'light up like a Christmas tree' since they won't be let out before lunch,"

Jin only considered for a moment before nodding, already rising. 

"Done. Meeting adjourned — and, Yukizome-san, am I absolutely clear when I say that there’s to be no school-wide therapy session?" He didn’t even wait a moment before he called a "Good!" over his shoulder and left the room, the other staff quick to follow.

* * *

_Dear diary,  
_ _I've known everyone at Hope's Peak for ages. Way back when, everyone played kickball and sharks and minnows and shit together during recess and rented movies like the Princess Bride to watch together — everyone was basically everyone's best friend. Kids are easy like that. But after hearing about Miu's "suicide," I barely see anyone mourning. I mean, yeah, she was a bitch, but even if she was and even if she actually killed herself, there's barely even a crumb of respect. I know, rich from the girl who has Miu's blood on her hands. The girls are already plotting to overthrow her place as the Number One and the guys are mourning her babe-like body. And as I look around across the room to study everyone'_ _s reactions, I can't stop myself from wondering —_ what happened?

_\- Maki_ _Harukawa_

* * *

"God, it's so unfair! We should get off a whole _week_ , not just the afternoon!" Kaede pouted, opening her gym locker. 

Maki, Kirumi, and Kaede were currently changing (though Maki had already finished getting dressed and Kirumi was more preoccupied) after their third-period gym class, and Kaede took it as an opportunity to whine about the circumstance. 

Kaede was halfway done changing, while Kirumi hadn't even started. In fact, she was more focused on indulging in a bucket of chicken wings, something an upperclassman, Akane Owari, was more commonly seen doing, never someone as well-put-together as Kirumi. 

"Write the school board," Kirumi unhelpfully suggests. Normally, her advice was stellar, but it was almost laughable how Miu's death had begun to transform Kirumi. Not that Maki could laugh, of course. 

"Watch it, Kirumi, you might be digesting food there," Maki joked dryly, but she didn't bother hiding the smile from her face as Kirumi continued to stuff her face. She couldn't remember the last time Kirumi had eaten this much without going to throw it back up afterward. 

"Yeah, where’s your ' _urge to purge?_ '" Kaede asked light-heartedly, also sporting a smile at seeing Kirumi eating without purging as she had mentioned. 

"Fuck it," Kirumi said, flicking a half-eaten wing over her shoulder after ripping a part of it off and popping it in her mouth. 

Both Kaede and Maki watched with amusement as it flew across the room and landed on a mirror that someone had attached to the inside of their gym locker. 

A comfortable silence fell over them as Kirumi began to change out of her gym clothes at a swift pace. Kaede had finished, and closed her locker, but hesitated before opening a locker that was two lockers away from her own — Miu's old locker, which hadn't been sealed off or even touched since Miu had her last gym class. 

"Look, Miu left behind one of her Swatches," Kaede says solemnly, bringing one of them out for both to see. Maki suspected that out of the entire clique, only Kaede genuinely saw them as her friends — she, excluding Miu herself, had to be the only one to say with full confidence that she liked Miu. 

The trio continued to stare at the watch. The rest of Miu’s gym locker was the same as her room and belongings — red, posh, and evidently rich. All ignored the photographs of them stuffed at the end of the locker, past Miu’s own gym bag. 

"She'd want you to have it, Maki," Kaede decides, tossing it to the girl with a flick of her wrist, who caught it easily. "She always said you couldn't accessorize for shit."

Unsure what to do with it, Maki clips it onto her wrist hesitatingly. She didn't want to deny the gift (if that was even the right word) and seem rude, but at the same time, the watch weighed heavily on her wrist. It was like a token you got after defeating a villain or progressing in a video game — it was a sickly reminder of what she had done, and Maki wanted to turn on her heel and run out the locker room doors, ripping the watch off in the process, and to never come back.

However, before Maki or her peers could move a muscle, a timid tap on her shoulder distracts Maki. 

She turned around, and Tenko Chabashira stared right back at her, mere inches away from her face. 

"Um… hi," she meekly begins, rubbing her arm uncomfortably. Maki didn’t blame her — outside of Himiko, she couldn’t remember if she and Tenko had ever interacted outside of a polite greeting in the hallways. "I'm sorry about your friend," she says apologetically, and Maki can see she means it, too. 

In all honesty, Maki had expected one of the constantly high students to approach her, not Tenko of all people. However, it was a welcome surprise. 

"I thought she was just your usual airhead bitch," Tenko admits sheepishly, blushing and playing with one of her braids. It was similar to a habit Maki herself did, too. "Guess I was wrong; we all were…"

_No, no you weren’t_ , Maki screamed inwardly. She shoved the words down her throat before they could surface. 

"Thanks, Chabashira-san. That's… that's really nice of you," Maki says honestly. Tenko blushes yet again at the compliment but says nothing, instead opting for a reassuring pat on Maki's right shoulder with an encouraging smile — no wonder Himiko was head over heels with a girl so radiant, a girl Himiko really needed — before dashing out of the locker room, her own gym bag in hand. 

Maki turned back to Kaede and Kirumi. Kaede was still emptying out Miu’s locker while Kirumi was fixing her bang over her left eye, neither having said anything during or after Tenko's quick condolences to Maki, but Maki knew they were listening in. 

"What a waste…" Kaede murmured sorrowfully as Kirumi tutted, "Oh, the humanity…"

Maki felt as if she were going to be sick, for what had to have been the 13th time in the past week alone. 

Only Maki and Kaito knew the truth; no, Tenko and the rest hadn't read Miu wrong or missed signs that weren't given to begin with, because the simple truth was that she was killed, and not by her own hand. Maki wasn't sure how much of the blame was on her shoulders, but the fact that it was there was enough for Maki to want to bathe the metaphorical (though it might as well have been literal) blood on her hands clean, no matter how many hours it took. 

Maybe there had been more to Miu than what met the eye. Maybe she did secretly hate partying, maybe she had a secret hobby, maybe she wanted to act on her ( _so obvious_ ) crush on Keebo, but regardless of what she _might_ have been, she certainly was _not_ misunderstood as the faculty and student body at Hope’s Peak were already painting her out to be. 

Everyone had seen her as an untouchable predator that sniffed out the insecurities — the weaknesses — in her prey and acted on them either to her benefit or just for fun. She was the "mean girl," and everyone accepted it. Maybe she was all of those hidden things and more, but she still _was_ the mean girl. Maki just couldn't believe she was being treated like a saint now that she had allegedly served herself a cup of Drain-Out, even by those she had ruthlessly mocked. 

This alternate universe where Miu Iruma was being treated like an angel gone too soon because of Maki's own actions was making Maki's heart pound harder, and when Maki looked down at her hand, (that had the watch that inadvertently said " _Congrats! You killed the bitch!_ ") all she saw was the blue of the drainer with the red of the small trickle of Miu's blood. 

Maki desperately wanted to scrub her hands until they were red and practically blistered from the motion, but unfortunately, the closest thing to that was the showers in the back. 

Slowly, as if she was under a spell, Maki trudged forward to the showers and turned one on. The water was startlingly cold, and Maki almost turned it to the hottest temperature (just as she liked it), before deciding that this cold was enough to help her awake from whatever nightmare this was. 

Almost immediately, Maki's hair and clothes began to cling to her. Her long pigtails began dripping water on the floor, but Maki still heard the steady ticking of the Swatch ever so clearly, despite the shower that ran on above her. Stupid Kaede Akamatsu, for being so considerate by giving the Swatch to her, and stupid Iruma and her stupidly expensive waterproof watches…

"Uh… Maki?" Kaede's hesitant voice calls, echoing in the empty shower room. "What're you doing?"

Maki doesn't respond and instead repeats a mantra of two words to herself desperately as her body becomes encompassed with the cold water. 

_WAKE UP._

* * *

_Dear diary,  
_ _It's free writing in literature today, so here I am, telling more of my melodramatic stories of the usual teen drama — you know, romance, feuds, mean girls, murder — the usual. Anyway, you know how I said all the girls are daydreaming of overthrowing Miu's position now that she's dead? Well, scratch Tenko Chabashira out of "all the girls" because she's probably the only person in this entire hellhole of a high school who was nice enough to acknowledge that she hadn't known all along and that Miu acted like a bitch but still showed some sympathy, you know? Anyway — I feel like I'm losing my mind here. Thank every star in the fucking universe for not making ghosts a thing, because if I had to deal with Miu's ghost on top of all of this, I think I'd snap, but this time, it'd be on purpose and_ not _an accidental murder I'd have to stage as a suicide._

_\- Maki Harukawa_

* * *

Whatever God that was out there seemed to really hate Maki. 

Maki had excused her sudden shower as if she were being pulled to it, like a moth to a flame, which technically wasn't a lie. Kaede had nodded vigorously, saying she felt the same whenever she had the urge to feel one of her favorite songs on the piano — Claire Day Lune? Maki couldn't be sure, she had begun to zone out as soon as Kaede burst into her impassioned speech — and just had to drag herself to the nearest piano to play enthusiastically as ever. Kirumi had stayed silent throughout the entire exchange, humming every so often to show she was listening. 

After that, her classes until dismissal had gone on without another incident. 

She drifted from class to class in a trance, like someone else was possessing her body and she was just watching from a different perspective. ( _Like Miu_ , Maki would think grimly, before shaking her head to clear her thought of the joke — that was exactly the type of thing Kaito would have said, and _he_ was the one who got them in this mess to begin with!)

(And besides, Miu would definitely make her do something much more vulgar than zoning out of her classes if she truly _had_ possessed her.)

It was like she was watching herself on TV. It wasn't her, but it was — was it real or fake? Was this all a dream, or was this her actual life? 

(Huh. Déjà vu. Weird.)

She had to get a grip before she began to sound like one of those conspiracy theories Yasuhiro had relayed to her animatedly in what felt like months ago. 

Either way, the day had droned on until she was not only completely dry from her impulsive shower but also had one more class away from freedom, but that meant she had to deal with the greatest hurdle of all — her homeroom teacher, Chisa Yukizome. 

Normally, homeroom was the first period, but it had been skipped that day and was instead held in the last period of the shortened day, as the first period was for a last-minute meeting between some of the staff members to discuss how to deal with the suicide. Her teacher had claimed that the faculty present at the meeting had dismissed her urge to hold a school-wide meeting, but that wouldn’t stop her from hosting one for her classes. 

And unfortunately for her said classes, she was dead serious. And if there was one thing Chisa Yukizome was feared, respected, infamous, and admired for, it was her dedication to getting things done, especially when it was beneficial for her students. 

However, despite the fact Chisa was hellbent on some "bonding time" with her Junior classes, teenagers were non-compliant and disinterested in passionate speeches at best, and impossible to maintain at worst. Despite the setbacks, Chisa had managed to have her class form their desks in a circular shape (it looked more like an amoeba blob than a circle, but no one decided to comment on this) and have her class settle down enough to get started with half an hour left.

"I am just so _thrilled_ ," Chisa began, pausing dramatically as she faced her class. "to finally have an example of the profound sensitivity of which the human animal is capable… that example is Iruma-san. I have her note —"

The class burst into excited whispers, some in awe, and Maki caught Keebo Idabashi's eye across the room, who looked just as (if not more) disturbed at their awe of Miu’s (alleged) suicide. Chisa, to her credit, didn’t seem to soak up the amazement of the room. 

_"But,_ " Chisa continued, raising a single finger with one hand as she slipped the suicide note into one of her apron pockets, "I'm sure Iruma-san's family would want the note as untattered and damaged as possible. But don't worry! I've mimeographed copies of her note. Please take one and read over it so you can feel its beautiful anguish for yourself. I think that this is a great opportunity for us to share the _feelings_ this suicide has spurred in us. Now, who would like to begin?"

It was silent for a few moments, excluding the shuffling of people in their seats as the copies were passed throughout the class. From her spot in the back, Maki took one as instructed but only pretended to read it over — she had (unintentionally) nearly memorized the entire thing over the course of Sunday, anyway, while repeating the events of Saturday morning in her head.

One of the other popular kids raised their hand — nowhere near as powerful as Miu, of course, but their global recognition, good looks, and charisma had landed her on Miu's good side. 

"Yes, Enoshima-san?"

"I heard it was really despairing and tragic," Junko Enoshima began, whispering excitedly as if she were sharing a secret with the group, and the said group were a bunch of twelve year olds at their first slumber party. "Like, she wrote a love letter to this guy and got all upset because she knew it would be unreciprocated —" at this, Junko's gaze flitted towards Keebo ever so slightly, and unless you were looking for it, you wouldn't have noticed it. Keebo gulped, and sunk further in his seat. "— so then she wrote up her suicide note and sucked down a bottle of multi-purpose deodorizing disinfectant, and then _smash!_ "

"Uh, Enoshima-san," Chisa said after blinking twice, plastering on a polite and forced smile that all teachers were too familiar with, "Let's not rehash the coroner's report, okay? Let’s talk _emotions._ "

A boy whose name Maki didn't even recall raised his hand. 

"Yes, Hanamura-kun?"

"Um, Iruma-san and I used to go out —" _Yeah, at age six for three weeks,_ Maki recalls in her head and judging by the looks flashing across her peers' faces, she could tell they were thinking the same. "— but she said I was weird, but now I realize that I really wasn't weird at all, it's just that she was dissatisfied with her life!"

Oblivious to the context of Teruteru's tale, Chisa beamed, even clapping her hands together in pride. "Very good, Hanamura-kun! Thank you for sharing!"

Maki couldn't stop the snort that escapes her at the entire situation, but luckily, she's able to cover it up as a convincing cry. Her classmates weren't much convinced because, for one, everyone else was barely covering up their own amusement, and secondly, Maki hadn't cried since childhood, let alone in front of her peers. 

Luckily, the improvised disguise sold Chisa, which was all that mattered. She gives Maki a sympathetic look and makes her way over to her seat. She rubs Maki's back as she continues to "sob" — luckily, Chisa interprets Maki's body stiffening as something she does while crying or as her hating to be touched by most people, and while both were true, the real reason was because of her wincing at the realization she'd have to continue her ploy for a few more minutes. 

Thankfully, before Chisa can ask Maki to share her thoughts and feelings out to the class, someone else raises their hand. 

"Yes?" Chisa asks, nodding at the nerdling. 

"Are we going to be tested on this?" He asks, showcasing a page full of notes in barely legible chicken scratch. Maki caught the phrase ' _She punched me out of loneliness and envy, not cruelty and arrogance!_ ' before the notebook was put down again.

Maki just barely resisted the urge to laugh again.

* * *

As promised, the school had ended three hours earlier than normal. However, Kaede managed to convince her loaded parents to politely ask (read: threaten to withdraw some of their wealthy funds for the school if not followed through with their commands) to have the week off so students could "properly mourn" for Miu, and to Maki and Kaede's surprise, the school agreed.

As Maki, Kaede and Kirumi made their way outside, Kaede was talking excitedly about the success of her mission which she had nicknamed " _Operation GGG_ " (the GGG standing for Gorgeous Girl Genius. Maki had to hand it to Kaede — she had to be the only person alive who cared for the self-imposed nickname for Miu). 

"I'm just so glad it worked!" Kaede gushed for what had to be the third time since receiving the news. "I mean, it's disgusting how they wanted to continue on anyway even though Miu's, like, the most popular girl in school! Did they think we'd stop being her friend and not mourn just to come to _school?_ "

Maki and Kirumi make noises of agreement, both simultaneously deciding not to comment on Kaede's use of present tense in her rant without looking at or consulting one another.

"Would you look at that?" Kirumi muttered under her breath not too long after Kaede finished her spiel. "There's a bunch of TV crews…"

Both Maki and Kaede looked up and towards where Kirumi was pointing at, and sure enough, there were multiple news stations set in front of the gates of Hope's Peak. It was to be expected, of course — the first suicide in decades, no, _centuries_ at the globally-acclaimed Hope’s Peak was certainly buzzworthy. 

Maki finds her nose wrinkling ever so slightly at the sight of the news reporters and TV crews. Even if Miu _had_ committed suicide, the fact that they were so eager to flock the students for the inside "scoop" on it all was making her eyes narrow and nose shrivel up in disgust. 

But, then again, who was Maki to comment on the morals of it all, considering what _she_ had done?

"C'mon, we should make sure they're getting the _right_ information on Miu," Kaede urged them, giving a pointed nod to Celestia Ludenberg, who was already making conversation with one of the news reporters. 

"That does make sense…" Kirumi agreed. Her eyes narrowed and fixated at the news crews, and something stirred in those green eyes of hers that Maki couldn't place the name of.

A small shiver goes down Maki's spine at the intensity of Kirumi's stare as the latter kept whatever she was thinking to herself. It was odd, Maki realizes with a frown. She only ever felt that unsettling shiver when Miu was alive…

Maki resolved to keep her face even more neutral and uncaring to fight the growing feeling of unsettlement that she felt when she stared at Kirumi for too long.

"You guys have fun with that," Maki says, already stepping back. "Something about those cameras doesn't sit right with me. That, and I have to head home before it gets dark out, and no offense, you two will be roped in the TV crews for hours."

"Yeah, see you," Kaede hummed as she pulled out a compact mirror to make sure her makeup was as flawless as ever. "Say hi to the Saiharas for us!"

After the three exchange goodbyes, Maki began her walk home, her thoughts weighing heavily on her — even more than the heat of the sun.

* * *

On the walk home, Maki passes a girl sitting on the edge of the curb. She had never seen her before, and she watched as the girl looked down at her shoes sorrowfully. Just by looking at the expression on the girl’s face, Maki knew her shoes were too tight for her. 

Without a second passing by, Maki flicks the Swatch on her wrist off before tossing it to the girl, who just barely catches it. 

"Here," Maki says curtly with a nod, "Sell this and use the money to get new shoes. Save any of the extra you get."

Maki had been planning to toss the thing in the garbage as soon as she arrived home, but seeing as how Miu's belongings had a better impact on the little girl than Maki herself, it was practically second nature to her to flick the thing off her wrist and to the girl. 

As the thought crosses her mind, Maki thinks of how she should have included a faux will in Miu's suicide. _Oh well._

Maki's gone before the girl can even open her mouth, disappearing around the corner to head to the Snappy Snack Shack, now craving a cherry slushie. 

* * *

The Snappy Snack Shack only had teenagers at this hour. Some were buying bubblegum, some were buying a pack of cigarettes, and some, like Maki, were getting a quick refresher — a cherry slushie, in Maki's case. 

The sight of it was probably ridiculous — Maki, in her dark blue (it was practically black) outfit with a blank face sipping away at a large, oversized cup with a thick red bendable straw, but Maki was far from amused.

She was capable of many things — adapting to the orphanage, being a child genius, maintaining her reputation, even murder as of a few nights ago, but Maki was unsure if any of that would prepare her for the funeral of the victim to said murder the following weekend. 

"Coin for your thoughts?"

Maki turned around, and was face-to-face with Kaito; she hadn’t even heard him creep up on her. 

"You got the expression wrong, asshole," is all Maki can bring herself to say to deflect his question. 

His brows furrow, and before he can ask what the right one was, Maki supplies it for him. “It’s ' _a_ _penny for your thoughts?_ '" Maki informed him, before muttering a lowly " _Idiot..._ " afterward. 

He nods, biting his bottom lip, clearly unsure what to say. 

" _Well?_ " Maki asks, raising a brow.

"Look, I just wanted to check up with ya," He says, raising both of his hands in surrender. "Honest."

"While I _appreciate_ the thought," Maki laughed hollowly. "You're the reason why I would even need to be 'checked on,' are you not?"

"Listen, I know I fucked up —" Maki snorted shortly at his words, far from amused. "— but it was an accident! I didn't mean to kill her, you know that!" Kaito continued. 

"I'm just kind of shocked at what we did," Maki mumbled, her intense gaze melting off of her features. "And how we actually got away with it. Makes you think of the other shit people could get away with, huh?" 

A silence falls between them, and Maki focuses on her drink before a small "Yeah..." from Kaito is given. 

"I really am sorry," Kaito apologizes again. Maki looks up at him, not knowing what to say, so she says nothing, instead absentmindedly playing with one of her pigtails while sipping at her slushie. "Let's just be seventeen, alright? You know, sneak a beer and watch bad movies and play poker? Go to prom and all that junk?"

Maki finds herself smiling at his words, even though her head screamed at her that she shouldn't stand down so easily and submit to his apology just because he decided to play the _What If_ game. But when he looked at her like that…

"That is if you still _want_ me…" Kaito added on with a light blush with an awkward scratch of his neck.

For once, Maki ignored her brain with her grand I.Q, and instead listened to her heart that was pushing for her to kiss him. She captured his lips with hers, and it only takes a moment for him to lean into it with a smile. She faintly tasted like cherries — Kaito decided right then and there that the cherry flavor was his favorite slushie flavor. 

As soon as they pull away from the kiss, Maki gives him a reassuring smile. "Yeah. Yeah, that sounds really nice."

She pecks his lips once again, and this time, it's Kaito who speaks up after it. “I'm glad. Want a ride to my place? I have my motorcycle with me," He says with a sly grin.

Maki chuckles as he wraps an arm around her, exiting the Snack Shack. "Alright, but no more liquid drainer hangover cures, got it?"

  
Kaito laughs as well, and Maki finds solace in the fact that there wasn't any discomfort in it. As soon as she's on the bike, Kaito takes off, and Maki temporarily forgets Miu and the Saiharas and Kirumi, Kaede, Tenko and Yukizome and everything else — all there was was the way she felt light-headed and how she could feel her heartbeat hammering against Kaito as she gripped him tightly, unable to stop herself from grinning madly as he sped away to his home. 

* * *

" _I_ _remember I won her a rhino at the carnival after the eighth-grade science fair,_ " Keebo said, a small reminiscent smile on his face. " _We had spent weeks building this robot, and when we got first place, the way she smiled made it worth it…_ "

Keebo's face was replaced with Kaede's; her eyes were bright and teary, and anyone could see she had to keep herself from crying if the tissue she gripped was telling. 

" _When I look back, I just look at the good times, you know?_ " She sniffs, giving out a small, half-hearted laugh. " _Like when we got our ears pierced at the mall together. I can still hear those late-night_ conversations…" 

Kaede's nostalgic speech was cut off when the cameras cut to Kirumi's face. 

" _We were the same size, so sometimes we would borrow each other's clothes and mix them up. It was… fun._ " A small smile slips across her face as well, but Maki sees the same thing in her eyes that she recognized from earlier that day that had unsettled her. Thankfully, the camera cut away, to Celestia Ludenberg. 

" _She was quite the presence,_ " Celestia smiled much wider than her other classmates, milking in the attention. " _She'd have these polls during lunch that were always amusing to answer. I speak for many when I say that they were a joy to look forward to…_ " 

"Oh, you're an asshole," Maki scoffed, before turning to Kaito, who was lounging next to her on his own couch. "Mute her."

He doesn’t mute the TV but instead changes the channel at her words. It was fruitless, however — Kaito might as well have not bothered. All the news channels were currently broadcasting the tragedy of the ringleader of Hope’s Peak’s student body, and most of the same students were scouted by the news channels.

Kirumi now sat in an empty classroom, staring straight at the camera with practiced remorse and dignity. Maki knew better than anyone how much Kirumi really missed Miu if the way she looked free while scarfing down all that food after gym told anything. 

"God, Kirumi, how many networks did you run to?!" Maki asked, and her outburst made Kaito snort, and impulsively, Maki smiles as well, laughing; Kaito's laugh was contagious, and she really couldn't help the way the corners of her lips would twitch upwards at the sound of it and the sight of his smile.

" _You know, we used to like the same kind of clothes…_ " Kirumi was saying, recycling the same tale from the last channel for the current network. " _We liked a lot of the same things,_ too…"

Angie's face replaced Kirumi's, and the camera switched from Angie's focused face to the canvas she was working on — it was a family portrait of Miu and her parents, probably to drop off to give condolences for. 

Angie was definitely strange, but Maki had to give her credit — the work was so stunning and realistic that she was willing to bet the Irumas would crumble when receiving it. 

" _Kami-sama has always been there for Angie,_ " Angie was recalling, currently using a thin brush to apply details to the piece. She paused every so often while talking, being sure to not so much breathe loud enough and ruin the work. " _Angie just wishes she could have been there for Iruma-san like Kami-sama was there for Angie… so to compensate, Angie will be giving this to Iruma-san’s family!_ " The camera pans to what was the finished product of the work, with Angie smiling relaxedly next to it. 

Once again, the camera cuts away, and now Junko Enoshima was applying her lip gloss in the bathroom; the entire position was clearly set-up, but neither Maki nor Kaito mentions this. 

" _This_ _was her favorite shade of gloss,_ " Junko tutted somberly, and she looked down at it pensively, but her lips began pulling themselves up. If it weren't Junko, Maki would be concerned with how she was beginning to smile, but Hope's Peak Academy had grown to accept the fact that Junko was just odd like that. " _It'_ _s not going to be the same around here without her —_ "

While she wasn't technically wrong, Maki couldn't stop the words from falling out of her mouth with an amused laugh. "What are you talking about? You secretly hated her, she secretly hated you!" 

She recalled the time the two got into a heated verbal argument over whose body was curvier and more desirable, and she couldn't stop the giggles that followed. 

" _Every Science class, I looked forward to seeing her…_ " Junko continued. 

Kaito switched the channel again, this time to another upperclassman, Sonia Nevermind. 

" _Iruma_ _-san and I were never close,_ " She admitted, and inwardly, Maki thanked her for her honesty. She couldn't say the same about the rest. " _However, from my country, we have a little tradition for funerals. I’ve prepared a little Novoselican poem for Iruma-san, which has been passed down for generations in_ _Novoselic…_ " 

Maki and Kaito listened to Sonia, though they didn't understand a word of her as she was speaking in Novoselic's native language. 

"You’d think they'd put subtitles…" Kaito grumbles as he changes the channel again. Maki doesn't know how to reply, so she doesn't and just watches the faces of her classmates talk animatedly about their memories of Miu. 

Now, they are on a French channel, where Celestia is speaking fluently in French. Judging by the small image of Miu in the upper-right corner of the screen, it was easy to guess what it was she was speaking about. She's speaking so fast and fluently, Maki and Kaito had trouble keeping up with her.

Kaito switches the channel once more, and mercifully, it lands on a sitcom neither recognizes rather the news on Miu’s death.

"I can't believe this," Kaito said with an amused shake of his head. "Miu Iruma's more popular than ever now."

"Scary stuff," Maki chuckled. 

The two had had nothing else better to do and made the mistake of thinking that Miu's death and an inadvertent reminder of what they had done wouldn't be plastered all over the news. Thankfully, Kaito's home was devoid of anyone else to hear their blunt jokes. When asked why all he responded with was the fact that his parents were dead, his only living grandpa was at work for the demolition company, and his only living grandma was across the world with the money she had gotten from her divorce with Kaito's grandpa. 

The house was barely furnitured — there was the occasional potted plant, but other than the couch, coffee table, TV, rack of weights, and treadmill, there were no decorations or furniture in the living room of the comfortably sized home. 

"Easier to pack up a half-furnished house than a fully-furnished one, right?" Kaito had asked with a laugh when he realized Maki had noticed. 

Maki had shrugged, unsure what to say, choosing to ignore the light-heartedness in his tone and the fact he’d only be around for a few weeks before he packed up and moved again.

Now, Kaito looked over his shoulder, a more forced grin taking over his face. He called out, "Young man, I didn’t hear you come in!" 

Maki turned and noticed a man who had to be Kaito's grandfather come into the room. He had a tracksuit on and seemed to have just come home from work and changed out of his work clothes. He was drawn to the treadmill, immediately switching it on, and began walking on it and a steady pace. 

"Hey, Pops, how was work today?" The man in question asked in a light, high-pitched voice, and Maki frowned instinctively. While it was obvious the inverted roles were some sort of inside joke, there was just a layer of tension that was thinly coated in the names. Had Kaito not been right next to her, Maki would have shifted in her seat. 

“It was miserable,” Kaito’s grandfather answered himself in a low, gruff voice, much different from the previous one. _Definitely a smoker,_ Maki thinks but keeps quiet. "Some damn tribe of withered old bitches doesn't want us to terminate that fleabag hotel… all because _Glenn Miller_ and his band once took a shit there," He scoffed, not even bothering to mask his annoyance despite the company. Maki wondered if he had even noticed her presence, but before she could dwell on it for too long, he began muttering more complaints. "Just like Kansas in the States. Remember fucking Kansas?"

He had spat the state name with venom and disgust as if the sheer memory of it was revolting. With how much he had complained about the aforementioned "withered old bitches," Maki had no doubt that the mention of whatever had happened in Kansas _was_ revolting. 

"Yeah, that was the one with the wheat, right?" Kaito chuckled in turn, but it wasn't the same hearty one Maki had heard multiple times before. 

"' _Save The Memorial Oak Society_ ,'" Kaito's grandpa laughs, but the laugh lacks any real amusement, instead only a satisfied vengeance and coldness in it. "Showed those fucks…"

"30 of those 4th of July fireworks attached to the trunk… arraigned, but acquitted," Kaito turned to Maki, providing the context for what had happened in Kansas. Maki nods and smiles awkwardly, and unconsciously begins to bounce her leg up and down at a rapid pace. She was literally sandwiched between two men that clearly had a bone to pick with one another if their tones and body language said anything, and one of them wasn't even aware of her presence (or had just decided to ignore it); it took the crown for the most uncomfortable thing she had to witness. 

As if being able to sniff out her discomfort, Kaito’s grandfather turns his attention to Maki, as if just realizing she was in the room. "Gosh, Pop, I almost forgot to introduce my girlfriend!" He snorts, using his mocking and higher tone again. 

"Maki Roll, this is my grandpa. Pops, this is Maki." Kaito introduces, sounding as forced as Maki's smile felt. 

Maki adjusted her crafted smile, rising out of her seat to shake his hand. "Hey, nice to meet you," She awkwardly greets, sticking her hand out, and he just nods, unbothered to move his hands from the treadmill handles. Wincing internally (and she wouldn't be surprised if she grimaced outwardly as well), Maki retracts her hand and settles back down next to Kaito on the couch, who had watched the whole thing with amusement. 

"Son, why don't you ask your little friend to stay for dinner?" Kaito asks, turning to his grandfather. 

Maki immediately springs up; she liked Kaito, she really did, but taking small sips of liquid drainer while watching the Hope's Peak interviews on TV sounded much more appealing than being caught up in a stiff and stuffy dinner with the Momota family. She gathered her coat and purse, already ready to go. 

"Can't," Maki says, improvising an excuse on the spot. "My mom's making my favorite tonight — spaghetti, lots of oregano…"

Neither knew that her guardians weren't home or that she would be the one making dinner for the night to greet the Saiharas home with, or even the fact that she barely referred to Mrs. Saihara as her mother. However, both were too busy staring at one another at the mention of her mother, too distracted to even realize she was bluffing. Maki wasn't a bad liar, per se, but the way they weren't tearing their eyes away from one another in barely-masked hatred was taking uncomfortable a few notches up. 

"Sounds great!" Kaito cheers, forcing both the enthusiasm and smile as he stared holes into his grandfather. "Last time I saw _my_ mom, she was waving from a library window in Hong Kong. Right, _pops?_ " 

"Right," His grandfather reassures him, completely forgetting Maki's presence in the room. He switches off the treadmill, straightening himself before continuing. " _Son._ "

Kaito's grandfather had a grin that sported Kaito's own — malicious and forced. 

"Right," Maki repeats, dazedly, smiling uncomfortably. Neither Momota senior nor junior bid her farewell as she coughs a goodbye out before scurrying out of the house and the suffocating tension in the room from all the things that had been unsaid by either party. 

She prayed that that was the last time she’d visit Kaito's place for a while. 

* * *

_Dear diary,  
Kaito's grandfather will not be speaking at our wedding._

_\- Maki Harukawa_

* * *

Upon returning home, Maki realized that the Saiharas had beaten her home. Shuichi had passed by briefly to carry a plate of pâté to his room, abruptly locking the door after greeting Maki back home. Whatever case Shuichi was dealing with must have been a hard one in particular, seeing as he had been holing himself in his room to work on it, something he hadn’t done since his apprentice days. 

Maki's blood chilled when she realized that maybe he _knew._ Knew Miu’s death wasn’t a suicide and was keeping it under the wraps for now, disguising his discovery as work on another case.

Maybe he knew it was her. 

She followed his footsteps by only grabbing a mere glass of water after welcoming the Saiharas back home and exchanging a few pleasantries with them about their last-minute trip. She then abruptly locks herself in her room for the rest of the night, unsure whether to be thankful for the quiet evening or frustrated that there was no distraction in the silent solace.

When she's all alone in the darkened room with only her thoughts as a distraction, with a whole week off ahead of her, she simply sets the glass down on her vanity and ends up curling on her bed, playing with her hair until she drifts off, still in her clothes. 

She was no longer hungry or thirsty now that she remembered what she had done.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the interactions in this chapter definitely made this one of my favorite chapters to write, so i hope you enjoyed it!!


	6. the funeral

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> during miu's funeral, maki is given a request by kaede that she ends up agreeing to, and finds herself immediately regretting it afterward — hindsight is 20/20, as they say, though the evening will result in a rather deadly rumor...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> some of the roles of kurt and ram are switched in this fic because i just figured that while i assigned kurt with kaz, leon would fit better in some roles, if that makes sense? it doesn't have any significance, but i didn't want to confuse somebody. also, i accidentally made keebo too likable and kirumi will probably be a bit ooc in future chapters but too late to fix that i guess,, plus, angie was supposed to take the more nosy and fake role of one of the students, but celestia kinda fit that role without even trying. oops.
> 
> anyway, sorry for the long wait, here's chapter six!!

A full week had passed since Miu’s death, and on normal weekends, Maki would sleep in, but on this particular one, she was picking out her clothes for the funeral of Miu. Maki was sure that Miu’s parents had extended an invitation to practically everyone they knew of for the send-off of their daughter. 

Maki had already run through three outfits for Miu’s funeral. She decided on a black dress with a black coat — the only blue in the outfit was present in the collar and in her shoes. As she walked out the back door, she noticed her parents casually lounging on the patio with a plate of pâté and a newspaper in front of Mr. Saihara. He beckoned her over upon realizing she was leaving. 

“Hey, take a break, Maki. Sit down!” 

Obeying, Maki slid down in the seat in between the Saiharas. She gazed forward to the backyard in front of her as she popped a piece of pâté in her mouth, swallowing hurriedly without chewing thoroughly.

Gazing out at the arrangement of the croquet game, Maki frowned as she chewed. Maki couldn’t help but wonder if it had truly been a week since the croquet game — truthfully, it felt as if a year had passed in the whirlwind of disbelief and panic that had passed. That fateful afternoon, her biggest concern was to not make a fool out of herself during the Remington party (a failed mission), and now she was trying to prevent herself from throwing up during the funeral service (which would hopefully _not_ be a failed mission). 

(On second thought, maybe she shouldn’t be eating pâté right before the funeral — at this thought, Maki swallows instinctively and doesn’t allow herself to reach for more pâté.)

“So, what was the first week after Miu’s suicide like?” Mr. Saihara asks, unaware of the thoughts circulating in Maki’s mind. 

“I don’t know,” Maki mumbled, choosing her words as carefully as she could. Mr. Saihara fumbled with his cigarette and Mrs. Saihara ate quietly next to her, neither commenting on the numbness in her posture and tone. “It was okay, I guess.”

“Terrible thing,” Mrs. Saihara tuts, grabbing another piece of pâté. Maki’s stomach drops at her words, dreading an interrogation on how she was feeling, though externally she hadn’t moved a muscle. Thankfully, Mrs. Saihara was either aware she wouldn’t want to talk much or didn’t have much interest in the topic to begin with as she abruptly changed the subject. “So, will we get to meet this dark horse prom contender?” 

“Maybe,” Maki teases, cracking a smile at the inquiry. 

“Goddamn,” Mr. Saihara muttered, inattentive to the previous conversation. He shook his head while peering down at the cigarette he had just been smoking, which was held in between his fingers. A light trail of smoke trailed after the bud of the cigarette. “Will somebody tell me why I smoke these damn things?” 

“Because you’re an idiot,” Maki answers with a cheeky smile, huffing. It was the closest thing she'd be able to produce to a laugh while her stomach seemed to be knotting in itself from the nerves — she was about to attend the funeral of her best friend (worst enemy?) whom she had assisted in killing.

“Oh yeah,” Mr. Saihara says, as if the realization had just dawned on him. He mimics Maki’s sly grin. “That’s it.” 

As Mr. Saihara took another drag, Mrs. Saihara smiled fondly. “You two…” She trailed off, cutting herself off with a piece of pâté. 

“Where’s Shu?” Maki asks, resisting the urge to take another piece of pâté for herself. “Still at the Kirigiri station?” 

“Yes, but don’t worry, they almost have this Panta Thief down cold.” Mrs. Saihara assures Maki. 

“ _Phantom_ Thief, dear,” Mr. Saihara corrected with an affectionate chuckle. 

“Ah, that’s it,” Mrs. Saihara hums, tossing another piece of pâté in her mouth. 

“Great pâté, Mom, but I’m going to have to motor if I want to be ready for the funeral,” Maki says, standing up. Both of the Saiharas nod, resuming to their morning pâté, cigarettes, and newspaper reading.

Maki went upstairs to her room and immediately leafed through her closet in search of a final outfit for Miu’s funeral. She ended up deciding on a black dress with a lace pattern and a dark blue overcoat, in addition to a matching navy hat that had an intricate pattern. Maki pulled on the dress hastily after removing her previous outfit, pulling on the overcoat afterward. She straightened the complementing dark blue hat on her head before fixing her heels on her feet. Swiftly grabbing a flat, off-white purse, Maki turned around to face the mirror, and with her spare time, she began alternating between her “mourning” faces, deciding which one was the most believable and appropriate. After finally deciding on one, Maki turned on her heel and left to bid the Saiharas farewell.

She was ready for the funeral. 

* * *

Elsewhere, Kaede was tearing her own closet apart. 

Kaede Akamatsu was well-known for having her closet fit with yellow and even light purples and pinks on occasion. The only black outfit she had was her cheerleading one that also had red on the skirt, and there was no way she was going to show up to Miu’s funeral in it. 

She reached for her phone on her nightstand, keeping her eyes away from the large pile of clothes on her bed that had piled up from her rampage of funeral-appropriate clothes. Hurriedly, she dialed in a number she had memorized long ago and waited for the receiver to pick up with bated breath. 

* * *

“Hello?” Kirumi asked into her phone, picking it up as soon as the first ring had come. 

“ _Kirumi!_ ” Kaede’s relieved voice exclaims, and Kirumi holds the phone away from her ear at the sudden peak in volume. 

Hesitatingly, Kirumi brought the phone back to her ear once more. She raises an eyebrow, though Kaede couldn't see it. “The funeral’s only in a few minutes — can’t whatever you need to say wait until then?” 

“ _Yeah, but that’s just it!_ ” Kaede exclaims, quieter than before, soothing Kirumi’s eardrums. “ _Can you_ please _drop off one of your black dresses at my place? I don’t have any black dresses!_ ”

“Why didn’t you get one earlier this week?” Kirumi begins, already pawing through her closet for a dress Kaede’s size. 

“ _I dunno, I was too sad to even think of the funeral_ ,” Kaede replies, and Kirumi can feel her shrugging on her side of the line. 

“It’s fine, I have a dress here for you. I’ll stop by and give you it.”

“ _Oh my gosh, thank you so much, Rumi—_ ”

“Kirumi,” The aforementioned quietly corrects, but Kaede breezes right past the correction. 

“ _Okay, um, I’ll be waiting on my front porch for you, okay? We can ride to the funeral together, too!_ ”

“Alright, see you then,” Kirumi agrees, hanging up after Kaede’s goodbye. 

Kirumi quickly got the outfit for Kaede together in a bag — a black dress that stopped a few inches above the knees, a black overcoat, and a pair of tights. For good measure, she also tossed in a pair of heels and a pearl necklace, unsure of what else Kaede would have in her closet. 

She herself was very proud of her own outfit — her silk gloves matched her sleeveless black dress and extravagant hat perfectly, and her hair was as perfectly curled as ever. She looked like the luxurious person Kirumi knew she was; if Miu was alive and wasn’t satisfied with the outfit, Kirumi would be surprised, but it wouldn’t have mattered — she was dead, and Kirumi was about to attend her funeral. 

She’d be lying if she thought that it wasn’t heavily empowering to feel. 

* * *

At the funeral, Maki sat next to Kaito. As expected, everyone was silent, excluding the priest at the front, though Maki wasn’t listening nor paying attention, though she was sure if anyone took the time to study her face, her disinterest and lack of concentration would be apparent. 

The sun peaked in through the stained glass windows — the funeral felt surreal to attend to during the bright and sunny days of spring. The dozens of people that had come to pay respects were all accordingly fitted in black and had somber expressions on their faces (though that didn’t stop Maki from wondering which were sincere and which were feigned) and were sitting still and silently. An occasional sniff or sob could be heard from one of Miu’s relatives. 

“I blame not Iruma-san,” the priest continued as Maki began to tune back in. “but rather a society that tells its youth that the answers can be found in the MTV video games.” The priest pronounced each syllable in ‘ _MTV video games_ ’ slowly and carefully as if to make his point clearer.

At this, Maki began to tune out again as the priest continued on with his speech. Though the funeral was uncomfortable enough to attend when it was for the person she had technically assisted in murdering, it became even more unsettling when Miu’s death was remembered after each sentence said by the priest and after each sniffle from the Irumas. Maki briefly glanced at Kaito, to attempt to decipher what was going on in his head, but he stared forward, his attentive eyes giving nothing away. 

Maki flicked her eyes towards Miu’s casket, a feeling of cold numbness spreading through her. A pang of guilt made her heart skip a beat — she wasn’t sure if the guilt was for the accidental murder or how desensitized she was beginning to become whenever she thought of Miu and her demise.

While she couldn’t see Miu from her position, Maki knew she was bound to be dolled up. The (living) Irumas had decided on an open-casket arrangement, meaning Miu was sure to look just as, if even more, beautiful than she was when she was alive. 

The priest must have finished his speech as Maki's gaze flitted around the church, as a wave of “ _Amen_ ” spreads throughout the gathered mourners, and Maki is quick to whisper the words as well, realizing that the service was over. 

Relatives were arranged to pay their respects after all guests, meaning those from Hope’s Peak were amongst those who were the first to approach Miu’s coffin.

Keebo was the first. He knelt next to Miu’s coffin, awkwardly folding his hands together, eyes drifting to Miu’s resting corpse before averting his eyes straight ahead. 

_May Miu-san rest in peace,_ Keebo prayed silently, licking his lips. _Or would it be more appropriate to call her Iruma-san? …Anyway, may Miu-san be able to show off her inventions in the afterlife. Amen._

He rose, allowing Kaede to take his place, and wiped his left eye before the tears could even fall out. He had never been able to cry, and he wasn’t sure if his eighth-grade girlfriend would want him to start over her. He wasn’t sure how much of Miu’s persona was really her, but he liked to think that she remembered their time in middle school to the summer before high school fondly; it was just a shame that he would never get a solid answer, now that the only one who knew was about to be buried six feet underground.

* * *

Kaede slid into Keebo’s place, kneeling beside Miu’s side. She licked her lips anxiously and blinked firmly and repeatedly, trying to keep the tears from spilling. Not only would she ruin her make-up, something she could practically feel Miu (figuratively, of course) rolling in her grave for, but she would also cause a scene and she would rather keep herself holed in her room for the time being.

_Oh God, this is a really tragic thing and sometimes I have a really hard time dealing with it and stuff._ Kaede began her prayer, sharply inhaling. Her stomach stirred with her nerves just at the thought of it. It may have been less structured than the other prayers Kaede was sure that would be made by others, but she was currently biting the inside of her cheek really hard and blinking rapidly to keep her tears from cascading down her face. _Please send Miu to heaven and all that…_

Kaede finished, sniffling softly as she passed someone whose name she couldn’t instantaneously place with their face, heading to the back of the church. To her surprise and relief, a small basin of water was placed there, which she uses to splash against her cheeks. No one stops or approaches her while doing so, so Kaede resumes after being given no instruction to stop. It must not have been important, anyway…

* * *

Celestia Ludenberg felt a bit out of place at the funeral — of course, it wasn’t because of the aesthetic, as a large portion of Celeste’s wardrobe was completely black and gothic, but because of the fact that everyone seemed so sad and dejected like a pathetic, wet dog on the streets. Taeko Yasuhiro sympathized with them, but Celestia Ludenberg was biting the inside of her cheek to stop the smile from stretching widely across her pale face. 

_Dear God,_ she begins. _Please make sure this never happens to me, because I don’t think that pathetic Taeko Yasuhiro could handle suicide… though Celestia Ludenberg can, of course, she is too… exquisite and grand to do so. Plus, an early acceptance into an Ivy League school from the United States — and please let it be Harvard. Who needs gambling when I can take over the businesses there and make multiple castles in America from my profits? Amen._

She then stood, completely forgetting about Miu. She remembered her as she departed from her spot, before brushing the thought aside indifferently — Miu had enough prayers for her, and Celeste couldn’t really bother to turn back around to spare a prayer for her. She uncaringly continued on her way, deciding to leave the church and return home to her cat, as the burial would be a private one with family only.

Even if it weren't, Celeste would rather have her cherished cat as company rather than a corpse surrounded by weeping family.

* * *

Leon awkwardly and stiffly took Celeste’s place, a bit uncomfortable by Celeste’s poker face and the surroundings — plus, the fact he was attending the funeral for the girl that he had, admittedly, masturbated to a few times. 

_Jesus, God in heaven…_ Leon crosses himself, coming up with the prayer on the spot. _Why’d you have to kill such a hot snatch? Heh… it’s a joke, man!_ Leon glances around, hoping there weren’t any mindreaders nearby and in reach. _Jeez, people are so serious… uh, Hail Mary who aren’t in heaven and bless us sinners… so we don’t get caught… another joke, man!_

* * *

Kirumi took Leon’s place after his clumsy departure, and she gnawed at her lip momentarily before straightening her spine and staring straight ahead with a calm expression. She began her monologue in a very straight-forward and brutally honest way that would be unexpected of her. 

_I prayed for the death of Miu Iruma many times, and I felt bad every time I did it, but I kept doing it anyway…_ Upon feeling an edge of guilt shadow across her face, Kirumi steeled herself and took a deep breath, allowing herself to slip a small smile as it crept across her face at a slow pace. After her performance on TV, people would assume she was recalling a fond memory, not that she barely had any impulse control to not jump for joy at Miu’s side. _But now I know that you understood everything. Praise Jesus. Hallelujah._

Kirumi quickly adjusted her sunhat and gloves, even absentmindedly fixing a strap of her black sundress before she rose and allowed Maki to take her place. 

Leaving Miu behind, unawakening and powerless against Kirumi, had to be the most liberating experience she had felt all throughout her life. It was almost like she herself had stabbed the modern-day equivalent to Caesar — had Miu been murdered, perhaps she’d give her killer a pat on the back for their favor to humanity and Kirumi herself. 

* * *

Maki stared down at Miu for what had to be a minute straight before she remembered why she was there. As expected, Miu looked nothing less than a gorgeous, porcelain doll, fitted to perfection by a mortician rather than an excited child. Her face laid unmoving, as expected, and lacked any of the usual malice on her features. 

_Hi, I’m sorry._ Maki began her prayer, biting the inside of her cheek to maintain her outward neutrality. _Technically, I did not kill Iruma Miu, but hey, who am I trying to kid, right? I just want my high school to be a nice place. …Did that sound bitchy?_

She stood and made her way to the back of the church, joining Kaede’s side as she moved from cooling her cheeks to fixing her hair by the side of the Holy Water’s bowl. 

“Maki!” Kaede chirps, looking up once she noticed Maki drawing nearer. “What’re you doing tonight?”

The aforementioned brunette shrugged. “I don’t know, mourning… maybe watch some TV… why?”

Kaede led Maki out of the church before answering. They fell into a rhythm together, their heels clicking in sync with one another. “Well, Kuwata-kun asked me out tonight, but he wants to double with Souda-kun, and Souda-kun doesn’t have a date…”

“Oh no,” Maki immediately declared, unbothered to swallow back the sigh escaping her lips. “Kaede, I have something going with Momota-kun…”

_Please ask Kirumi instead and never force me to go out with Souda-kun again,_ Maki internally begged. The last time she had made that figuratively-fatal mistake, the night had ended with a duet by Kazuichi and Leon on how Maki made their “balls so blue”. It was truly a miracle, in Maki’s opinion, that she resisted the urge to glare dangerously in their direction whenever she saw them, instead choosing to grit her teeth as she bit down her disgust. 

Without having to turn to the blonde, Maki could feel the former’s pleading look piercing her peripheral vision as she heard the clasp of Kaede’s hands join together. “ _Please,_ Maki?” The cheerleader pouted, flashing her pair of lavender eyes to the brunette in the form of classic puppy-eyes. “Put Billy the Kid on hold for tonight? …I’ll be your best friend?”

* * *

Across the parking lot, Kazuichi and Leon themselves leaned against the car of the former. Despite Kazuichi’s own vibrant and eye-catching mane of hot pink hair, his car was a dull dark grey that glimmered slightly in the bright sun of the afternoon. While Leon kept his hands in his pockets, Kazuichi’s fingers kept moving around and fiddling with themselves, craving a cigarette to be held in between them. 

“So, we on tonight, man, or what?” Kazuichi turned to Leon. 

Leon shrugged. “I dunno, still gotta talk to Akamatsu-san… weird funeral, huh?”

As the words fumbled out of his mouth in a low mutter, Hanamura and Yamada passed by the two, with the former accidentally stepping on Leon’s right foot. 

Leon looks up from his feet to the back of Hanamura’s retreating figure, jaw slack in the annoyance of being inconvenienced. “That pugwapper just stepped on my foot!”

Kazuichi, ever the impulsive one, stepped forward immediately. His sharp, shark-like teeth gritted tightly, Kazuichi snarled as his pink-contacted eyes narrowed, glinting in the sunlight. “Let’s kick his ass!” He scowls, taking another step, before being held back by Leon. 

“Cool it, we’re seniors,” Leon reminded Kazuichi, fixing his suit. Relenting, the latter nodded, faltering in his previous determined steps. 

Compromising, Kazuichi leaned back against his car, facing back to Hanamura and Yamada, who were still within earshot.“You goddamn geek!”

Sensing that they were being addressed, Hanamura and Yamada turned around to face the jocks. Yamada had his usual self-assured smirk on his face, while Hanamura was sporting a sly grin of his own. Both were undoubtedly too confident under the angered gaze of the alpha jocks. 

“Uh, well…” Hanamura awkwardly raised his middle finger, his confidence wilting momentarily before his defiance steeled itself. “ _Sit-n-spin!_ ”

“That little prick…” Leon trails off with a chuckle, meeting Kazuichi’s eyes, both of which share his amusement rather than anguish. His voice is filled with a dazed amazement, contradicting his next movements; he and Kazuichi pounced after Hanamura, who immediately yelped and broke into a run to a statue in the center of the front lawn of the church. Yamada trailed behind all three with blatant hesitance. 

Eventually, after scurrying behind Hanamura for a few moments, Kazuichi leaped at the shorter one, shoving his face into the dirt while sitting on his back to intensify his discomfort. Leon bent down menacingly by Kazuichi’s side, peering down to a wincing and withering Hanamura. Yamada joined a group of others from his clique, who all watched on with pity and contemplation — _to interfere or not to interfere?_ — while all other passerbys and witnesses paid no notice to the group. 

“Alright, you piece of shit,” Leon’s lips curled into a satisfied smirk as he dictated, “d’you like to suck big dicks?”

Hanamura offered no reply, instead yelping as Kazuichi twisted the arm behind his back even further. 

“Say it,” Leon repeated his command once again, his voice simultaneously amused and uncaring. “Say ‘ _I like to such big dicks_ ,’”

Yamada pushed his glasses up his nose, forehead glinting in the sun as a thin film of sweat coated his skin from his nerves. “L-leave him alone, Kuwata-kun and Souda-kun,”

Despite his clear discomfort in the confrontation, Yamada attempted to stand tall and firmly, though all he ended up accomplishing was standing stiffly and awkwardly. 

Leon ignored his stammers, his attention being diverted away from his current targets by the revving of a motorcycle. Looking up, he inadvertently made tense eye contact with the rider of the motorcycle — Momota, who had been looking directly at the scene as it unfolded. A queasy flip of Leon’s stomach passed after a moment of the intense and unbreaking eye contact before Momota turned away after a few fleeting moments to presumably focus on driving. Leon, however, continued to stare at where he had been, trying to identify why it was that he felt a jolt down his spine at the stare.

Kazuichi remained oblivious to the level of intimidation Leon was feeling, as he had taken over the harassment. 

“Say it!” He chanted, repeating the two words as if they were a mantra for inciting fear into others. 

“Okay, okay!” Hanamura groaned. He paused, before grinning proudly and proclaiming, “You like to suck big dicks.”

Despite the fact Kazuichi loosened his grip for Hanamura to say the statement without mumbling and tumbling over his words, the pink-haired jock tightened his grip on the boy in a more forceful way than previously. After processing the insult, Kazuichi jerked Hanamura harshly to the dirt once again with no warning. The latter’s gasp slips out of his lips in a choked way as he’s dragged back upward. The excursion made it difficult for Hanamura to catch his breath as he rushed to please them.

He doesn’t even have to be told what to do before Hanamura’s forced moans are already being spilled out. “Oh, _oh…_ I like to suck big dicks… mmmm… _mmmmm…_ I c-can’t get enough of them! Are you s-satisfied?”

Despite the fact that the supposed moans resembled frustrated hums, both Kazuichi and Leon decide to let it go (though only one of them does so physically when Hanamura is released from the hostile grasp of Kazuichi), each sporting a satisfied and confident smirk. 

The rest of the geeks, who had watched the exchange from beginning to end, rushed to support Hanamura up. Many looked embarrassed, but whether it was for themselves or Hanamura was unclear. However, all elect to ignore Kazuichi and Leon bursting into a fit of snorts and hysteric laughs at the scene that they had caused. 

* * *

Maki and Kaede had just reached Kaede’s car — she was dropping both Kirumi and Maki off at their respective homes — when Maki finally gave into Kaede’s pleads. 

“Don’t worry, Kuwata-kun’s been so sweet lately, consoling me and stuff… it’ll be really very!” Kaede said in the most persuasive tone she owned. For good measure, she adds in a swift “Promise,” as well. 

Maki sighed. “Okay, but just as long as it’s not one of those nights where they get shit-faced and take us to a pasture to tip cows…”

* * *

If there was any possible solace in the entire situation, it was that Kaede at least had the dignity to look apologetic and embarrassed on her own promise’s behalf. 

True to Maki’s unconvinced agreement, Leon and Kazuichi had taken their respective dates to a pasture late at night, currently snorting amongst themselves as if the cows lazing around invented the concept of humor. It defied the promise Kaede had made, but neither of the boys had any remorse for their chosen date.

(Maki was left wondering for the tenth time that night if she and Kaede were their dates, or if Kazuichi and Leon were each other's.)

Both Kaede and Maki had changed into comfortable sweaters, sharing the same look of disbelief, while Leon and Kazuichi were wearing identical letterman jackets. The latter duo were beside a cow, one of which had fallen asleep standing up, and due to their drunken state, their words were slurred as they tried to process what was in front of them.

Unfortunately, both Maki and Kaede were very sober, watching as their dates giggled like children as they drunkenly clung together beside the cow. The intensity of their shared secondhand embarrassment was left unsaid as Kazuichi and Leon’s words continued slurring themselves. 

“Is it sleeping, dude?” Leon questioned in a loud whisper, though the whisper was just a hair away from being giggled in his regular voice volume. 

“I think so, man, c’mon…” Kazuichi murmured back, also snorting in anticipation, noticeably slurring. 

Leon mutters a lowly “ _Shit…_ ” before steadying himself, following Kazuichi’s footsteps. 

“Cow tipping’s the fucking greatest… punch it in!” 

Maki continues watching, aghast, as both of the boys move to fist-bump one another; their fists do not meet, but instead, they impact one another’s chest drunkenly. Kaede, embarrassed, stretches her lips in a wobbly and apologetic smile to Maki, who glared it off her features. The blonde turned away, staring down at her feet. 

Leon hushes himself and Kazuichi, still giggling despite his attempt at keeping quiet. “Okay, okay, on the count of three…”

In sync, Maki and Kaede watch as their dates begin to count to three. Maki kept herself from muttering to Kaede sardonically how she was surprised they even knew how to count to three. 

“One… two… _three!_ ”

The cow let out a single _Moo!_ as it fell, awakening at the impact of Leon and Kazuichi’s shove. Maki grimaced as she felt mud splash up onto her face, clothes, and even a bit of her hair. Instinctively, she recoiled and shut her eyes; not even the feet of the distance she and Kaede had put between the cow and the boys and themselves had kept them from getting doused. 

She turned to Kaede, who looked as pained and mortified as she herself probably did. If Maki were pettier, she’d be pleased with this result — it was Kaede’s begging that had made her cave, after all — but currently, she was too busy wiping off the mud from her cheek with disgust evident on her face to assault her with her words. Kaede already looked as if she had learned her lesson, after all. 

Leon and Kazuichi burst into a loud fit of laughter, no longer needing to keep quiet to prevent waking the targeted cow. However, once they noticed Kaede and Maki, caked with mud, both angered and horrified, their laughter intensified. They ended up collapsing on each other, desperately clutching on each other through their laughter in a futile attempt to keep them upright.

* * *

Minutes later, Maki was prepared to go even more than before. She was able to get most of the mud off of her person, save for a few stains which would be able to be washed out after tossing them in a washing machine, but Kaede was too preoccupied. Maki watched in disgust as Leon had laid Kaede down on the grass, kissing and fondling Kaede all over as he began to remove her clothes. She turned away as soon as she noticed Leon’s hand slip underneath Kaede’s sweater. 

(She wasn’t sure if she was more disappointed or disgusted that Kaede was about to have sex with Kuwata at a cow pasture after he and Souda were responsible for getting them both muddy — it was a toss-up, but she was leaning more toward the _disappointed_ route.)

Kazuichi, on the other hand, was dissatisfied and craved Maki’s attention. He stumbled after her, like a lost child, drunkenly muttering things while he tripped over his two left feet. Maki’s eyes were narrowed into slits as she climbed over the white fence that outlined the pasture, more annoyed than intimidated by Kazuichi’s approaches. While a drunk, overconfident, and horny jock was a dangerous combination most of the time, Kazuichi had difficulty navigating his feet to Maki’s location, so she doubted his barking would result in biting. He was currently less intimidating than a newborn kitten.

“C’mon, when I get that feeling, I _need_ sexual healing!”

“Yeah, right, asshole,” Maki muttered, making her way up the steep slope. She made her way up the slope, pausing to briefly catch her breath as she gazed back at Kazuichi. Normally, she would have made a witty comment on how he had a left hand and how he should use it, but at the moment she didn’t care enough to do so. 

At this, Kazuichi opened his mouth to either argue back, plead even more, or provide his own comeback, before he collapsed. His limbs, which were entangled in the pieces of the fence as he tried to crawl over them, promptly gave way, making him flail in the mud for a fleeting moment before giving in to his unconsciousness. 

Sighing in relief, Maki turned away from the sight to the top of the slope, readying herself for a possible walk home. However, there at the top of the slope and leaning against his own motorbike, was Kaito. 

“What is this shit?” He asks in a hoarse voice, gesturing to an unconscious Kazuichi and the still-attached Leon and Kaede. He removed the cigarette hanging from his mouth, blowing a thin wisp of smoke, before crushing the bud with the heel of his shoes. 

Maki begins making her way up, ignoring the sloppy sounds of Kaede and Leon kissing along with the occasional whimper (from Kaede) and grunt (from Leon). “Doing a favor for Kaede — double date,” Maki begins to explain. “I tried to tell you at the funeral, but you rode off.”

Kaito looks away from Maki and past her to the writhing Kaede and Leon on the dirt, before averting his eyes to the still-passed-out Kazuichi. “Another fucking queenie…” He mutters under his breath. He shook his head with a grin and chuckle, looking back to Maki. “Sorry, I’m just feeling a little superior tonight… seven high schools in seven locations and the only thing different is my locker combination…” 

Maki found herself giving him a small smile as she reached her hand forward. He reciprocated, helping pull her up the slope.

“Our love is God,” Kaito breathed, a serene smile on his face. “Let’s go get a slushie,”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'll be posting every wednesday and saturday to make up for the month-long hiatus, thank you for your patience!!


	7. ich lüge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> after a rumor about maki surfaces, kaito and maki brew the perfect plan for revenge — though one of them is left in the dark about the specific details their plan entails...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pt 6 of user m4kiroll making keebo too likable  
> gonta joins the (slightly) ooc train as well

“I’m telling you, it’s not a good idea!”

“We’re not belittling the Foodless Fund, Idabashi-kun —”

“Oh, forget the Foodless Fund, won’t you?” Keebo snaps, turning away from the array of pictures in front of him and turning to his partner.

It was the period before lunch on Monday morning, and Keebo, Gokuhara Gonta, and an upperclassman, Mioda Ibuki, were gathered in the yearbook committee room. While Mioda wasn’t part of the yearbook committee, meaning she didn’t get a say in what went in the yearbook, she had been brought by Gonta to further punctuate a point. However, she wasn’t necessarily part of the debate Keebo and Gokuhara were having, nor even listening; instead, she had a pair of headphones on as she sang the lyrics of a song underneath her breath. 

“We’re talking about teenage suicide here,” Gokuhara continued, ignoring Keebo’s protest. “Ask Mioda-san — the number one song in Japan today is _Teenage Suicide, Don’t Do It_ from Maizono-san and Mioda-san’s collab. And Hope’s Peak finally got one of these things, and Gonta can’t blow it!” 

Gesturing to Mioda’s shirt, which was a design that advertised her and Maizono’s collab, Gokuhara glanced back at Keebo, who shook his head pettily. 

Keebo had been trying to show Gonta how the new addition to the yearbook wasn’t the righteous thing he thought it was, but after half an hour of debating, his patience was only so thick. “Great, so M — Iruma-san gets the front page, and I get crammed in by the Taco Bell coupons,” he huffed, correcting himself from calling Miu by her given name. 

Before Gonta or Mioda could further interject, Maki opened the door, forcing the conversation to come to a halt. She was wearing a blue pinstripe shirt, coupled with a darker blue vest. Her tights and flats were black, along with her hat that sat atop her styled hair. A blue scarf acted as a hatband around her hat.

“Hey, guys,” Maki greeted politely. “Came to check up on this week’s lunchtime poll topic…” Now that Miu, the selector of the lunchtime poll questions, was no longer in the position of doing so, the yearbook club had offered to come up with the questions while Maki, Kaede, and Kirumi resumed with distributing them during lunch.

Keebo turns away, stalking towards his own seat as he tosses something down on the table he, Gokuhara, and Mioda were in front of. Maki’s polite (and forced to begin with) smile diminishes when she realizes what it was — creeping closer, she catches a brief sight of Miu’s suicide note along with pictures of Miu laid out on the desk before Gokuhara ushers her away. 

“Uh, don’t worry about it, Harukawa-san. Sit down…” Gokuhara awkwardly fidgeted, leading Maki to a seat away from the spread out. “The funeral must have been really rough, huh?”

Maki blinked at the sympathy. Gokuhara was normally nice, sure, but her gut told her there was more to the story than Gokuhara just being Gokuhara. “Yeah…” she answers, gazing back at the papers and photographs on the editing desk. 

Gokuhara licked his lips, eyes flitting back and forth from the spread in front of him to Maki herself. Keebo, indiscreetly, coughed to signal Gokuhara to drop the conversation route he knew the other was about to take; Gokuhara, either misinterpreting or ignoring the signal, licks his lips once more before coming to a decision and turning to Maki once more, opening his mouth. 

“We were, um, wondering if you had any poems or artwork that Iruma-san did that we can put in the _Iruma Miu Yearbook Spread_.”

Maki blinked once more, in a mixture of confusion and shock. “The _what?_ ” 

Gokuhara lowered his head, gesturing for Maki to rise. She did so, following him back to the editing table. Keebo sighed loudly in both annoyance and defeat, and shook his head, turning away from the duo. 

“It’s a two-page layout,” Gokuhara began to explain, gesturing to the entire spread. “Her suicide note is right up here in the corner…”

He continued to prattle on about the layout. Maki hesitantly reached towards the pictures that were already gathered; the location, people, and even age of Miu featured in the picture varied, but two factors stayed the same — Miu’s familiar red wardrobe and the knowing smirk that was always on her face. 

Gokuhara must have read her silence and blank expression as disapproval, as he rushes to add on, “It’s more… tasteful than it sounds.”

Maki decides to ignore how Gonta hesitated before using the word, presumably to make sure it was the correct one to use. 

Before Maki can make a retort, the door swung open once more, and this time, Celestia and Enoshima entered the room. Both were whispering to one another with mirroring grins on their faces, smirking to one another as Enoshima whispered something to Celeste, who giggled in her usual quiet yet sardonic, lady-like way. Maki shook her head, ignoring them. “I don’t know, Gokuhara-kun. This leaves a bad taste in my mouth.”

“Like last night, Harukawa-san?” Maki turned to the source of the phony French accent, frowning at Celeste as she burst into giggles again. 

“Excuse me?” Maki asked, narrowing her eyes in a way that begged for Celeste to challenge her. “I don’t get it.”

Celeste and Enoshima exchange glances. Both were knowing, and both infuriated Maki. She didn't move a muscle to prevent betraying her mask, instead settling for a stony glare at both girls. 

“What you did last night,” Celeste said in a self-explanatory way. “Souda-kun told us of your little date.”

Maki scoffed. “Yeah, and?” Maki quirked a brow. “I left him drunk and flailing in cow shit.”

“Well, I don’t know,” Enoshima giggled in a sing-song voice. “He was _really detailed…_ ”

Keebo had finally had enough. “Shut up, both of you,”

“No, don’t shut up,” Maki shook her head, fully turning around to fix a glare at the girls that was usually reserved for Ouma, Remington university assholes, and jocks such as Souda who never got the hint. “I’d like to know exactly what I did,”

Neither moved to answer Maki’s demand, both still sharing the same knowing look. 

Keebo put a hand on Maki’s shoulder, giving a firm stare to the other two. “Enough. Come on, Harukawa-san, I’ll show you the lunchtime poll topic.”

Gokuhara gestured to Enoshima and Celeste over for their opinion on the layout of the Iruma Miu Yearbook Spread while Keebo guided a begrudged Maki out of the room. Maki’s glare was still fixed at the back of Enoshima and Celeste’s heads, and she only turned away when Keebo closed the door behind them, the _click_ signaling that whatever was about to be said would be unheard by the trio in the room. 

“What the fuck,” Maki asks, though her tone makes the would-be question into a demand.

Keebo took a deep breath, hesitation evident in his posture. What the hesitation was for, Maki wasn’t sure. “Okay, now I _rarely_ listen to… _neanderthals_ like Souda Kazuichi, but he said he and Kuwata-kun had a…” he grimaced before spitting out the next words, “… ‘ _nice little sword fight_ ’ in your mouth last night… please do not make me repeat the details!”

Ignoring Keebo’s plea and bright blush, Maki recoiled and wrinkled her nose. She fully understood his behavior. “Ew…!” she murmured, before slating her face to blank once again. “That son of a bitch…” she muttered, turning away as a murderous gaze settled on her face. 

“Er, Harukawa-san —”

“Save it,” Maki interrupts, fishing a few yen out of her pocket. “Here, for the Foodless Fund,”

“Thank you?” Keebo accepted the yen, frowning to himself. Was that all people thought he cared about? 

“And be sure to put an end to whatever that Iruma Miu shrine in the yearbook is,” Maki instructs before turning on her heel, stalking down the hallway with her icy frown still fixed on her face.

Keebo nodded to himself, despite the fact Maki had left, before pocketing the money and taking a deep breath, entering the room once again. He felt his shoulders stiffen when he realized that in his absence, Gokuhara, Celeste, and Enoshima had added additional features to the Iruma Miu Yearbook Spread. Sighing, he trudged over to dismiss Enoshima and Celeste in strained politeness. As soon as the two girls left, their smiles still plastered on their faces, Keebo turned to face Gokuhara to attempt to explain his perspective once more but sighed once again when he noticed Gokuhara re-arranging the spread. 

He tried not to wince as a photo of him and Miu winning their eighth-grade science fair was tossed away in the trash can beneath Gokuhara's desk without another thought. 

* * *

After Maki had found out about the rumor, it seemed to be the sole thing she heard about for the rest of the day. Rather than Miu’s declared suicide, which was the topic of lunch gossip last week, it was how Maki had allegedly given blowjobs to both Kazuichi and Leon. Maki was rather impressed with herself how she managed to refrain from shouting or lunging at someone, though Ouma did make that difficult to achieve here and there.

Maki had taken Kaito’s offer for a ride home; she didn’t want to face Kaede nor Kirumi. The ride was silent. The wind lapped past their ears as Kaito rode to the Saihara household, and Maki tightened her grip on Kaito to keep herself from flying off his motorcycle. 

Thankfully, Shuichi was away — probably at work with his detective partner, Kirigiri, and their other coworkers — as well as the Saiharas at their own workplace, meaning there was no one around to question why Maki began to cry as soon as she and Kaito had wobbled inside. 

Wordlessly, Kaito guided Maki upstairs, rubbing her back with one of his hands. As soon as Maki collapses on her bed, Kaito locks her door before joining her. 

“Are you okay?” He asks, voice gentle, though they both know the answer. 

“Awesome,” Maki mutters, her voice hoarse, turning her back away from him to shield her teary eyes away from his gaze. “I’m sorry about the waterworks,”

Kaito turns Maki towards him, rubbing a thumb along the edge of her eye, brushing away tears that had yet to fall out. He kissed her forehead briefly as her sobs already began to die down. That was the type of crier Maki was — quick, hot tears that would run down her cheeks would be gone in a matter of moments before she composed herself. 

“Hey, it’s okay,” Kaito soothes. “They made you cry, but that won’t happen again, I promise. We can get revenge, you know? They won’t make you cry again, I swear,”

Had Maki remembered what had happened the last time they organized a prank for revenge, she might have refused, but through her blurry eyes, all she saw was the caring gaze of Kaito. Leaning into his touch, she nodded as he kissed her once more.

Minutes later, Maki disentangled herself from Kaito’s grasp, now completely calm. She reached for a phone book, and upon finding the number she was looking for, she hurriedly dialed it in while gesturing for Kaito to keep quiet. 

“ _Yeah-lo?_ ” Kazuichi’s disinterested voice picks up. 

Maki grins, making sure to filter the most alluring and seductive voice she had. She absentmindedly replied to his advances and questions, staying silent as he talked to ensure she wouldn't have to speak more than necessary. “Hey, Souda-kun? Hi, this is Harukawa Maki… yeah, I didn’t expect to be calling either, I guess my emotions took over… I was wondering if you wanted all those things you’ve been saying to really happen…? It’s always been a fantasy of mine to have two guys at once… Oh, sure, you can write to _Penthouse Forum…_ ” 

She heard Kaito struggling to hold back a laugh at her words. Smirking, she moved to silence him as she tossed a pillow at him from the other side of her bed.

“Yes, in the woods behind the school, at dawn…” Maki continued nonchalantly in the most leveled voice she could manage as she settled back down once again. She cheekily adds on, “Don’t forget Kuwata-kun,”

She slammed the phone down, ending the call, looking up at Kaito for a split second before her lips curled into an amused smile. On the other end, Kazuichi stared down at his phone which now lay silent in his head. Shaking his head in amazement, he dialed Leon’s number to give the good news. 

“Free pussy,” he muttered to himself as the phone rang. “And I don’t even have to buy it a pizza…”

* * *

With Souda and Kuwata’s confirmation of the appointment out of the way, Maki and Kaito lounged on her bed, loading two handguns Kaito had supplied with a wide grin. The faux suicide note was already written, though Maki didn’t understand why it was needed to begin with. 

She admitted as much. “I don’t see the point of me writing a suicide note when we’re just going to be shooting them with blanks,” 

“Well, we’re not gonna be using blanks this time,” Kaito continued loading the handgun in his hand, ignoring how Maki's body went slack. The words made an involuntary shiver crawl up her spine. Freezing in place, all Maki could bring herself to do was stare at the other with eyes that widened out of their usual narrowed glare as he absentmindedly continued fiddling with his handgun without any indication he noticed or cared about Maki's shock. 

“You can’t be serious,” Maki breathed out, finding her voice. Had her voice not taken on a permanent monotone, Kaito might have been able to identify how she nearly choked on the words. 

Kaito simply shrugged in response with a smug grin. The words _wouldn’t you like to know?_ were practically spelled out from the smirk. 

“Listen, my Bonnie and Clyde days are over,” Maki dropped the handgun on her bed, turning to leave the room as an angered scowl took over her face. Kaito grabbed her arm; at this, she froze in place once again, feeling her body grow rigid. Her arm, still tightened in his grasp, itched to jolt free, but she remained in place. 

“Wait a second, wait a second…” Kaito finally looked up from his handgun to Maki’s unimpressed eyes. “Do you take German?”

Maki swallowed thickly, being sure her voice wouldn’t waver. “French,”

Kaito nodded, still smiling lightly. “These are _Ich Lüge_ bullets,” He introduces, raising a single bullet for Maki to further examine. “My other grandfather snared a shitload of them back in World War Two — they’re like tranquilizers, only they break the surface of the skin, enough to cause a little blood, but no real damage.”

Slowly, Maki nodded, knitting her brow as she processed his words. “So, it looks like the person has been shot and killed, but they’re really just laying there, unconscious and bleeding?” She relayed, making sure she understood completely. 

Kaito nodded, widening his grin. “Right. We shoot Souda-kun and Kuwata-kun, make it look like they shot each other, and by the time they regain consciousness they’ll be the laughing stock of the whole school; the note’s the punchline. How’d it turn out?”

Maki smiled, reaching over to grab two sheets of paper. One was the notes of Kuwata that had been gifted to her what felt like a lifetime ago by Miu, and the other was a whiter sheet that was noticeably newer. However, both papers shared a common factor — the messy, chicken-scratchy handwriting that was authentic on the first note and forged on the latter. 

“First, tell me the similarity is not _incredible_ ,”

Kaito peered at the notes, narrowing his eyes to see them further. He dips his head down in the form of an approving nod, before commenting warmly, “Color me impressed. Incredible similarity…”

Maki’s smile melted into a smirk as she cleared her throat and began reciting the note she had recorded in Kuwata’s handwriting:

“ _Souda-kun and I died the day we realized we could never reveal our forbidden love to an uncaring and misunderstanding world. The joy we shared in each other’s arms was greater than any touchdown, yet we were forced to live the lie of sexist, beer-guzzling, jock assholes._ ”

Kaito snorted, rising from Maki’s bed and retrieving a bag. “Perfect, now let’s take a look at some of the homosexual artifacts I dug up to plant at the scene…”

He dug into the bag before beholding a thin, baby blue magazine. He tossed it on the bed and it landed on the space in front of Maki. “An issue of _Stud Puppy_ …” As he spoke, he pulled out the corresponding objects:

“A candy dish… a Joan Crawford postcard… some mascara… okay, now here’s the one perfecto thing that I managed to pick up…”

He paused dramatically, and unintentionally, Maki leaned in, eyebrows raised. 

“Mineral water!”

“Oh, come on, a lot of people drink mineral water. It’s come a long way!” Maki protested with a laugh. 

Kaito shrugged, dropping the bottle with the rest of the contents on Maki's bed. The heart-shaped box of chocolates, black and white postcard, mascara tube, and baby blue bag surrounded the bottle on Maki’s bed. The array was ridiculously stereotypical, but Maki assumed that was where Kaito found entertainment in. Besides, it wasn’t as if they were trying to make the scene believable enough as if their reputations and lives were on the line — they just had to sell it enough to deflate the pedestal Kuwata and Souda were perched on. 

“Yeah, but this is Japan. I mean, if you don’t have a brewski in your hand you might as well be wearing a dress,” Kaito snorted. 

“Oh, you’re so smart…” Maki teased, rising from her place on the bed. 

Maki captures Kaito’s lips with her own, and he immediately reciprocates by wrapping his arms around her waist. They settle on her bed before Maki is laid down by Kaito as he planted warm kisses down her neck. She couldn’t stop her giggle but allowed it before she pulled him back in for a heated kiss. 

* * *

Dawn came on Tuesday morning, meaning Kazuichi and Leon were making their way to the clearing of the woods behind Hope’s Peak. Kazuichi was singing an American song Leon was unfamiliar with — the song was about sex, Leon presumed — as they made their way to the heart of the woods. 

Leon, however, was unimpressed. “Put a sock in it, won’t you?” 

“Dude, brighten up! We’re about to get some of the finest pussy this school has, for free! We don’t even have to buy it a pizza!” Unknowingly to Leon, Kazuichi recited the phrase he had thought to himself over and over again as soon as he had received the call from Harukawa. “Punch it in!”

This seems to cheer Leon up, as he grins widely and slams his fist into Kazuichi’s own. 

Meanwhile, Maki was carefully tucking her handgun, loaded with Kaito’s _Ich Lüge_ bullets, into the waistband of her short, frilly pale blue skirt. The bulge in the shape of the handgun was covered by the white coat that was wrapped around her shoulders, covering the bareness of her shoulders caused by her lacey black top. 

As soon as the gun was out of sight, she heard the crunching of twigs and leaves. Turning around, she smiled forcedly at the sight of Souda and Kuwata, hands tucked into their respective letterman jackets, biting and licking their lips as they eyed Maki from head to toe. 

Souda awkwardly cleared his throat in a feeble attempt to hide his eagerness. “Hey, Harukawa-san!”

“Hi, guys! Glad you could make it,” Maki returned. Her voice was alluring, and her smug grin widened when she noticed Souda and Kuwata exchange looks. Kaito had told her to not be too cheery but, likewise, not be too off-putting to prevent scaring them off, and seeing them practically squirm and writhe at the sound of the most seductive voice she owned was undeniably satisfying. 

“So, should I just whip it out, or…?”

“I’ve made a circle on each end of the clearing.” Maki begins. “Souda-kun, you go over here. Kuwata-kun, over there. When you get to the circle, strip.” 

Following her directions, Souda and Kuwata head to their instructed circles. Kuwata removed his jacket before looking back up to Maki, licking his lips. “What about you?”

Maki blinked; she was surprised Kuwata would even think of that, let alone question it. However, she recovers from her initial surprise before either could notice or comment on it, flashing a seductive smirk on her lips. “I was hoping you could rip my clothes off me, sport,”

Internally, she winces at the use of the pet name, but Kuwata nods. “Good idea!”

Both Souda and Kuwata hurriedly finish stripping, tossing their clothes outside of the circle, out of reach. They face Maki, now clad in only their underwear and socks. 

Maki took a deep breath before smirking once again. “On the count of three. One…”

Souda chuckled in anticipation, eyeing Maki from head to toe once more. 

“Two…”

Kuwata gave an enthusiastic smile, readying himself. 

A different voice proclaims the next number, unexpected from the jocks, but welcomed by Maki.

“ _Three!_ ”

Kaito stepped out from behind a tree, handgun prepared in his hands. At this, Maki withdrew her own gun, a vengeful and wicked smirk on her face. Kaito aimed at Souda, while Maki aimed at Kuwata. Both smiling, while Souda and Kuwata’s pupils shrink in fear and confusion, they pull the triggers. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cliffhanger, except not really a cliffhanger because i think we have all seen the movie and/or musical or, if you somehow clicked on this without knowing, you have common sense unlike our love is god! maki so we all know what's happening.
> 
> thank you for reading, see you saturday!!


End file.
